This World We Live In
by a-study-in-starkid
Summary: Sebastian Smythe and Finnick Odair somehow switch bodies. Chaos is a given as each of them are thrown into different universes, different lifestyles, and different lovers. Follow Sebastian through the Quarter Quell and Mockingjay, and sing along with Finnick as he schemes his way through the Michael episode and beyond.
1. Chapter 1

****Sebastian's Point of View****

"Finnick? Finnick."

Someone is shaking me awake. I mumble something insulting and roll over. My mouth fills with damp sand. My skin itches.

I jump to my feet, spluttering, and knock over a bowl of shellfish.

Where am I?

"Finnick, you were supposed to be on guard." A dark-haired girl says. Her eyes are sympathetic but firm.

"Guard?" I reply vaguely. Then hunger punches me in the stomach and I forget everything else. I'm so dazed that the girl's face is starting to look like a boy's.

It ripples and contorts into the face of Blaine Anderson.

Blaine Anderson. The name sends a spark through me, sending my brain cells into chaos. A frenzy of passion.

I am not this Finnick character. My name is Sebastian Smythe.

I'm a heartthrob, a singer, a lacrosse player, a bitch. I do _not_ live on a beach. And I do _not_ go hungry.

"Who are you?" I demand. My voice is clearer now, less dazed.

"Finnick? Do you feel okay?" she asks, obvious concern dawning on her face. Is she my girlfriend? Well, not mine. Finnick's. I hope she isn't. Right off the bat, I can see that she has absolutely no makeup of any kind on, her hair is matted, and her body is nothing special.

I try to yell that I'm not Finnick – I'm Sebastian and I should be in my bed right now – but I only say, "I'm really hungry."

And I am. The anguish is nearly blinding me, and I need to focus. This is the most bizarre dream in the world. And painful. I feel my skin begin to itch again. It's maddening.

She tells me that she'll be right back and walks into a small tent thing directly behind me. It's more of a grass-woven ceiling with a few sticks surrounding it, actually, but this is so bizarre I'll just call it a tent.

I catch words like 'Mags' and 'extreme grief' and 'drunk Haymitch' but it means nothing to me. After about a minute I cannot stand it any longer.

"I'm not Finnick!" I burst out, charging into the sad excuse for a shelter. The girl nearly drops a tube full of dark stuff that seems to have dropped from the ceiling. "I'm Sebastian Smythe!"

"What?" the girl and a blond boy stare at me.

"I'm Sebastian! I don't know who any of you are, where we are! I'm Sebastian and I live in Ohio and I just want to wake up! This is the worst dream ever!" I scream.

"Be quiet!" exclaims an older man from the back of the tent. "Please, Finnick, they'll hear us and they'll plan an ambush."

"I AM NOT FINNICK!" I bellow, chucking some sort of metal thing at him. It clangs to the floor, missing his head by inches. "DREAMS ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE PAINFUL!"

"Stop it." I feel the blond boy's steady hands on my wrists. "Please calm down. We need the spile for drinking water."

"Who are you?" I demand, shimmying away from him. He's cute, I suppose, but he's part of the nightmare.

"Um. I'm Peeta. This – " he gestures to the brown-haired girl – "is Katniss, and Beetee's back there."

An older man looks up from whatever he's doing and gives a perplexed wave.

"Do you seriously not know who you are?" the Katniss girl asks me. Beetee's head snaps to her.

"I KNOW WHO I AM. MY NAME IS NOT FINNICK. MY NAME IS SEBASTIAN." There I go, screaming again. My face is flushed, and I try not to start slamming my head into the ground. I just want to wake up!

"Sebastian?" Beetee says in a serene, soothing voice. "You are dealing with a loss right now. We understand. Please let your grief out in a more civilized manner, though...you're on every television in Panem right now for sure. Control yourself."

"WHO THE HELL IS MAGS?" I shriek. "WHAT IS PANEM?"

Peeta and Beetee exchange grave looks. "Finnick, just –" Peeta begins.

"SHUT UP!" I yell, and scramble out of the tent. I sprint towards the ocean and collapse right in front of the tide.

My skin is on fire. I scratch until I draw blood, and then Katniss is beside me. She hands me the tube.

"It helps." she says simply, and I allow her to rub it into my skin, dab it on my face. I see the dark splotches on her face from the medicine, and I don't want that, but I want the itching to go away.

The relief is immediate.

"Where am I?" I nearly whimper as she screws the lid shut.

"You're in the 75th Hunger Games. Your name is Finnick Odiar, from District 4. You're 24 years old." Katniss tells me.

Everything about that is wrong.

"Hunger Games?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Yes, the Hunger Games. Where they toss us in an arena and we all fight each other to the death." she says dryly. "It counts as entertainment around here."

I wave her off.

"No, no, no. I'm _not_ screwing with you. I'm _Sebastian._ From _Ohio_."

"Ohio?"

"It's in America. I'm a singer and I go to Dalton Academy in Westerville. I'm the captain!"

"You really aren't Finnick?" She gives me a condescending look that I've seen so often on my parents' faces when they catch me in a lie.

"No!" I reply furiously. "My name is Sebastian and know who I am. I have a lifetime of memories."

"So where is Finnick?" she asks, and I shrug angrily.

"How would I know?" I snap. "I just want to go home."

**A/N: Yes, I know. This was how I let out my feelings about Grant Gustin playing Finnick. NEEDS TO HAPPEN. This will be from the point of view of Sebastian, Finnick, and maybe Katniss. If anybody actually wants me to continue this, drop me a review! I don't get the alert/favorite notifications, so if nobody reviews, I'll assume that nobody cares and go on with my sorry life.**

**Oh, and this takes place after Mags dies in Catching Fire for Hunger Games, and in the beginning of the episode Michael for Glee.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Finnick's Point of View!_

My first thought is that somebody has sent us mattresses, and the Gamemakers have removed the humidity from the arena. They are going easy on us, for the time being.

But the Gamemakers are merciless.

I open my eyes and give a start. I'm in a bed. Tangled in sheets, I fall, flailing my limbs until I hit the ground. I can't stand beds. I sleep on couches, roofs, or even the floor. But never beds. The Capitol, has ruined them for me. Curse my good looks.

This must be a dream. Or maybe a hallucination.

I'm in a bedroom. A boy's bedroom.

I slam my hand against the wall, hitting the light switch. A lamp illuminates the room. There's a poster of a group of boys in blazers, a bed, a mirror. I peer at myself, bleary-eyed.

I look like...well, I look like me. But paler. And I'm wearing a nightshirt and sweatpants.

This is strange. Very strange.

I pinch myself, hard. It hurts. My fingers leave a red welt on my arm.

If this isn't a dream, it must designed by the Capitol. But where is the drama, the pain that the Gamemakers are so fond of inflicting? If the Gamemakers are doing this, it won't end well.

What could have happened? I grope at the doorknob. It's unlocked. Aware that I'm doing what the Gamemakers would expect me to, therefore playing right into their hands, I walk into the dark hallway.

For the moment, I don't care. I just want to know what's going on.

"Hello?" I call out softly, but there is no answer. I guess I didn't really expect one.

My head is pounding. I lean against a wall.

I remember sitting outside the tent. I was playing with the net and trying not to cry. Mags. She'd left. I knew she wasn't going to win. But I watched her die. She kissed me before she walked into that awful fog.

Maybe I dozed off. But no. I never would have been so careless. It felt like moments ago I'd been sprawled in the sand, staring at the night sky.

Hadn't I been sweating? And itching? My skin is smooth now, pale. I'm not tan. I cringe, despite the circumstances. This is no time to be thinking about looks. However, I can't help sensing that my muscles are smaller, too.

Perhaps the Gamemakers have foisted some other terrible fog on us. Maybe it was so sudden it didn't register.

Or maybe I'm just insane.

If this is the Capitol's game, I'm not going to play. I walk lightly into the bedroom and flop down on the floor. The carpet is soft. Amazingly, I drift off. Maybe I'll wake up back in the tent.

There is no alternative.

**A/N: I will probably focus more on Sebastian because Finnick is mature and like, calm, and that's no fun. Thank you for all of the positive feedback. I have no idea when I'll update again, but I do have some other chapters written, so stick around! And review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Sebastian's Point of View_**

"So assuming that you are seriously _not_ Finnick Odair –" Peeta throws me another doubtful look. "How is this – like – _possible?_"

Beetee examines me, and I resist the urge to cross my arms. "Perhaps," he says thoughtfully. "The Gamemakers are not responsible for this, as one would suspect. Sebastian?"

I look up grumpily. I still hope this is a dream. I refuse to accept this as a reality.

"Do you remember your life very clearly?"

I squint at him. Freaking grandpa. What an idiot. "Of course. My friends, my house, my childhood, my school." I choke back a sob. "Of course I remember them. Because I'm not this Finnick guy. I'm not!"

"So do you think that Finnick, somewhere, is in your body?" asks Katniss in an incredulous voice.

The thought of some random dude in my life makes me furious.

"So who is this Finnick guy anyway?" I blurt out.

"Well – " Katniss hesitates. "I'm not very good at making unbiased statements, so, Peeta, why don't you tackle this one?"

I like the hint of sarcasm in her voice. It reminds me of a time when I wasn't having a freaky _Survivor_-like dream.

Peeta clears his throat. "Well, Sebastian –" he still doesn't look comfortable using my name. "Finnick was – is – a victor of the Games –"

"Games?" I interrupt.

"The Hunger Games." Beetee cuts in. "The government throws 24 teenagers into an arena to fight to the death. They air it on the televisions everywhere."

I am horrified. "And I – Finnick – won?"

Katniss nods. "Finnick won the Games and went on to become the sex symbol of Panem –"

I can't help but snicker. Even in another body, I'm super hot.

" – and since this is the 75th Hunger Games, all of the past victors are competing."

"So _all_ of you won?"

Peeta nods and bites his lip.

"You're all _killers_." My voice cracks. I just want to go home, where my biggest problem is getting that dapper ex-Warbler Blaine to fall in love with me. Now I'm fighting for my life for some reality show?

"Fin–Sebastian." Katniss looks like she want to pat my arm or something, but she keeps her distance, and I am grateful. "I – we're all just as confused as you are. I've never heard of anything happening like this."

"A body-swap." Beetee suggests, and there is not a trace of humor in his voice.

"A lame sci-fi that gets cancelled after the pilot episode." I snap.

Peeta chuckles even though I doubt he knows what sci-fi is.

And then a bag of bread rolls smashes into my skull.

"OW!" I bellow, ripping the stupid thing out of the air. I fling it at Peeta's head, but he catches it.

"WHAT IS THIS!" I shriek. "BREAD FLYING FROM THE SKY AND HITTING ME!" My face red, I storm out of the tent. It's then that I see the three figures, coated in red, limping towards the tent. They're far enough away that they don't notice me yet.

I glance back at the tent. Killers, sadistic games, flying bread!

I've had enough.

I dart away from the tent and into the freakishly green jungle.

Now would be a great time for my alarm clock to go off.

**A/N: I SUCK AT UPDATING! SORRY! **

**Also thank you sososo much for your reviews. I don't deserve them. They do make me update faster, though XD  
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	4. Chapter 4

Hours later, I wake up. I'm still sprawled on the beige carpet in the bedroom.

This is either a very long dream, a very stupid Capitol trick, or a very impossible reality.

"Sebastian!" A female voice is shrieking through the door. "If you don't get up soon, you'll be late for school!"

School? I haven't had school since I was 14.

Since I was reaped for the Hunger Games.

Besides, my name is not Sebastian, it's Finnick.

I decide to play along for the time being. "Sure!" I call back, and rip a sweater and a pair of jeans from a closet. I strip off an unfamiliar black shirt and faded pants, tossing them to the floor in my haste. I dress and exit the room.

The area looks completely different in the morning light. A gleaming staircase, colorful oil paintings. The complete opposite of the arena I was just in.

"Hello?" I call out. Where am I supposed to go?

"Sebastian!" the woman sounds annoyed. I follow her voice to a downstairs room.

I assume that the brunette, expensively-dressed woman standing by the front door is Sebastian's mother. I try not to freak out.

"Where's your blazer, is it a dress down day?" she demands.

"I think there's been some misunderstanding here." I say, and try not to let panic overpower me. "My name is Finnick Odair..."

The woman snorts loudly. "I'm sure you forgot to study for some test, Bastian, but too bad, you're going to school."

"I'm serious!" I say in an authoritative voice. "My name is Finnick Odair."

She cocks her head. "Did you break into the wine cooler last night?" she asks, her eyes narrowed. "You look hungover."

"No!" I protest, but I'm so overwhelmed. The Quarter Quell. Our secret plan for Katniss and Peeta. The rebellion. Now this.

I allow the woman to walk me upstairs and stuff me into a blue blazer. She leads me into a shiny vehicle, and drives us away, silent.

My mind is racing. Something very, very strange is happening here.

* * *

><p>The mom lady pulls up to a beautiful building. A sign propped on the grassy lawn reads <em>Dalton Academy. <em>"Get out Bas, and face whatever it is you've been dreading."

The woman's terrifying. This Bastian person must have nerves of steel.

I hurry out of the car and tread nervously into Dalton Academy. Where do I go now? I can't very well ask for directions, or people will know something's up. I can't let that happen.

It's lucky that a freakishly blonde teenager practically jumps me in the courtyard.

"Sebastian! Sebastian!" the guy yells, grabbing me by the wrist. "You're almost late! Thad has a _fantastic_ idea!"

I wince, try to resist the urge to cover my ears. I let the boy drag me to wherever I'm supposed to go. It's not like I can just wander around the shiny wood floors and marble walls and golden chandeliers. They remind of the Capitol homes. Or more precisely, the bedrooms, where –

No. I immediately banish the thought.

"You're late!" A brunette boy exclaims as Blonde and I enter the polished room.

"Sorry." I mumble, and the room goes _silent._

"Did he just _apologize_?" one of the boys whispers to another.

"What?" I snap, on edge.

"Never mind." he says in a small voice. "Thad, please present your idea."

A teenager whom I assume to be Thad smiles tightly at me and says, "I thought that we could do The Wanted's _Glad You Came _for regionals. It would sound great with your vocals, and we could do some delightful background a capella."

The Wanted?

Glad You Came?

Regionals?

A capella?

"Sounds great." I force a relaxed smile. "Excellent idea, Thad."

Again, the room exchanges shocked looks. Well, maybe Sebastian's a jerk. I can do that, I guess.

Something rang from the back of the room.

"Hello?" a red-haired boy answers the device, and holds it to his ear.

"It's for you, Sebastian." he walks over and hands me the foreign object.

The guy had been holding the thing to the side of his face and spoken. It was obviously some sort of electronic device.

I mash it against my cheek and imitate the boy. "Hello?"

"_Sebastian! Hey, it's Blaine._" says a honeyed voice into my ear. "You said you needed to ask me something last night..."

"Oh." Am I supposed to be mean, or nice, or what? Is he a friend?

"_So what do you need_?" Blaine asks.

"Oh. Um." I think for a split second. Luckily, I'm a sharp guy. "Yeah." I glance down at the blue-and-red blazer I'm wearing and laugh. "Do you have any idea how to get red wine out of my blazer piping? It's horrendous."

Red wine was often served in the wealthy Capitol homes. I figured that these privileged children would have it, and I was right when Blaine laughed back.

"_That would happen to you._" he chuckles fondly, and an odd idea hits me – maybe Blaine and Sebastian are more than friends.

The boys around me try to engage each other in conversation to be polite.

"That's me. The raving alcoholic." I say, and he instructs me to use some stain remover, use a certain dryer temperature, whatever. I'm not listening.

Already I feel like I'm drowning. I have no idea what I'm doing.

And soon, somebody's going to find out.

**A/N: I noticed that I made a continuity error...I'm such a Ryan Murphy! Beetee wasn't supposed to be there in the beginning...oops!**

**Just pretend that Beetee and Wiress were separated in the initial bloodbath.  
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**I will try to update soon! Thank you so much for your reviews!  
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**Come bother me at mypassionisklaineterri on tumblr!  
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	5. Chapter 5

_Katniss POV_

"Fin – Sebastian! You can't run off! You – " I streak after him. "Come back, these people are killers! _KILLERS_, SEBASTIAN, AND YOU HAVE _NO_ IDEA HOW TO –" I stop yelling so I can breathe. And who knows what might hear me?

"Katniss!" Beetee calls, and I halt, spraying sand everywhere. I turn and spot the red figures approaching us. One of them is wandering around in circles, the other is stomping towards us.

Peeta is my priority – not Sebastian. And Finnick's body. I hurry back to our camp and draw my bow and arrow, although the red people don't seem like a threat.

They come close enough for me to recognize them under all the red – it's Johanna Mason and the woman nicknamed Nuts – Wiress. She's the one walking in circles.

Beetee's face is ecstatic. I'm happy for him, but what's Johanna Mason doing here?

Peeta rushes forward to help the two, and I go with him in case Johanna decides to start ripping out throats with her teeth. You can never be too careful.

"What happened to you?" Peeta loops an arm around Wiress' waist and leads her to our camp. Puzzlement is evident on his face.

"Did you see the lightning?" Johanna answers irritably. "We were glad, because we were freaking thirsty. But it wasn't rain. It was blood. Thick. Hot. We barely got out." She's practically hissing through her teeth, and I back away.

"Blight was with us, but he ran into the forcefield." Blight was the male tribute from 7, I think.

"Sorry." I say quietly, but Johanna shrugs.

"Left me alone with _her_." she sneers, and we look over at Wiress, who's mumbling something about locks, or ticks, or something.

"We _get it_ Nuts. Tick, tock. Nuts is in shock." she mocks. Wiress pushes away from Peeta and stumbles over to Johanna, and Johanna shoves her to the ground.

"Leave her alone!" I say automatically.

"Leave her _alone_? I brought her here, didn't I?" she yells, then slaps me in the face. Hard. I shove her back, but suddenly Beetee is between us and we both back off.

"Where's Finnick?" Johanna spits at me. I thought he teamed up with you."

"Um – "

"His body's in the jungle. His mind, however, is a different story." Beetee quickly explains Finnick's random transformation into 'Sebastian.'

When he's finished explaining, Johanna's eyes are wide.

"We need to go after him." she says immediately. "We can't let him on his own out there."

"You need to wash off." Beetee suggests calmly.

"No I don't. I need to go help Finnick!"

"Johanna – " Beetee says.

"No." Johanna takes off to the jungle.

I know she's exhausted. So I bolt after her, grabbing my bow and a knife for her, and we silently run into the woodland. I hope that I can trust Beetee and Wiress with Peeta, because I don't know if I could afford to have Finnick and Johanna's blood on my hands.

I have too many people's already.

* * *

><p><em>Sebastian's POV<em>

After a few minutes of running, I have to stop and sit down on a rock. I'm so tired. It's so hot here, it's like all of the energy was sucked out of me.

I tilt my head back and try to calm down. Maybe running off on my own in an arena full of trained murderers wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done. But it's certainly better than staying with that awful girl – Katniss, I think her name is – and that old fool who thinks he can tell me what happened.

The boy with the blond hair isn't as bad as the rest of them, I guess. And his body is _fine_. If things were normal, I might go after him.

I sense something above me and look up.

And really, really wish I didn't.

There are monkeys. Hanging on vines, like in stupid kid books, or off of trees. It's creepy. They're everywhere, poised to attack.

But they're monkeys, I try to console myself. Monkeys don't hurt you.

As if they heard me, the monkeys explode down and start attacking me.

I feel claws rake down my leg, ripping open scabs that I hadn't known existed, and teeth sinking into my arms, my neck. I scream.

This is it, then. They're killing me and I'll never sing another song, I'll never see Blaine on my arm...

I fall over and cover my face, still screaming as loud as I can. Katniss, I take back what I said. You're not awful! If you come and save me, I'll never think an unkind thought about you again.

So this is how I die. Also PAIN!

And then something is dragging me across the jungle floor. I feel the horrible monkeys being torn off of me, one by one.

"Finnick! Finnick, can you hear me?" an unfamiliar voice is shouting. I. Am. Not. Finnick.

"One's on my back!" a girl shrieks, and I hear a soft thud.

"There's one!"

Another thud.

I try to say something, anything, but all that comes out of me is a low moan. I suck.

The last monkey is removed from my ankle, and I'm being pulled through sand. My eyes are shut. I just want to curl up and die. Make the pain stop.

"We're far enough away now." snaps Katniss, and the dragging stops. I let out another moan.

"You idiot." the other girl huffs, and I open my eyes and gasp.

"Santana?"

**A/N: Hooray! Next time Finnick will go to the Lima Bean!**

**Does anybody have any ideas for the Image Manager thingie?  
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**Ew but look at the new review box. I don't like it.  
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**But I sure wish you'd write something in it!  
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	6. Chapter 6

_Finnick_

I really am failing at this. I've never felt stupider. Ugh, I want to spear someone with a trident. But so far, I haven't seen a single weapon. Other than my abs, of course. Those babies are seriously dangerous.

Classes at Dalton Academy are just so complicated, it takes everything I have not to flip out and bash the teachers' heads in with the writing utensils.

People are noticing that I'm not Sebastian. I do terribly in class all day. I don't think I answered a single question correctly. After the last bell _finally _rings, I go back to the room I was in at the beginning of the day. But I can't sing a single note in Warbler practice. The other members keep ooohing and aaaahhhing and it's so distracting.

This isn't funny, Gamemakers. Get me out of here.

I've never felt more alone.

Something else I've noticed? I'm seeing people differently. Well, specifically...I'm seeing the boys differently. Maybe it's partially because I've seen two females since I've been here, a teacher and Sebastian's mother, but the boys just seem...I don't know. Clearer?

No. They're _attractive_.

Man. I'm way out of it.

As I hurry out of Warblers practice, a boy with a few pounds to spare stops me in the hallway.

"Bas, are you okay? You're just going cray-cray it today."

What's this guy's name?

"I'm fine." I say. "Tired, I guess."

"Want me to take you to the Lima Bean for a pick-me-up?" he offers.

I have no idea what he means, but it sounds alright. We walk to his car together, and I can't help glancing up at the sky, hoping against hope for a Capital hovercraft to appear.

We drive in silence to the Lima Bean, which I soon find out is a place for people to drink things and sit around. We never had anything like that in District 4. We didn't have cars, either, or those communicating devices. It all reminds me that I'm in an alien world.

"I'll swing by and pick you up later." says the boy knowingly, patting me on the shoulder. "I know you like to be alone." And then he winks. Okay, then.

Lost, I look around. The only people my age are sitting on a few couches in the corner. I inch closer and hear a boy with glasses say something about Michael Jackson. The Warblers were talking about MJ, so they're probably the same thing.

A brunette girl catches sight of me, and blanches. I guess she and Sebastian aren't friends, and suddenly I am on the receiving end of a bunch of glares.

"That might not be a good idea." I drawl. I'm guessing that this is another Warbler group. Well, we can't both do Michael Jackson, can we? Someone catches my eye.

The black-haired boy. He's not glaring at me, and he looks almost welcoming. Could it be Blaine? The odds are not in my favor, but I say it anyway.

"Hello, Blaine."

He looks guilty and glances at the boy next to him, and I know that I'm right. I resist the urge to scream with triumph.

"Hello everyone else." I say in a lofty voice. It's something that Sebastian would do, I'm sure of it. I paste a confident smirk on my face.

"Does he _live _here or something?" The boy next to Blaine jerks his head at me. "Seriously, you are always here."

"Why don't you think that's a good idea?" the brunette asks in a clipped voice.

I fumble, "Because we're doing MJ for –" _think, _Finnick! " – for regionals." Yes! That is the term I was looking for. I feel Finnick melting away from me, and this snobby, schoolboy persona is taking over. It's fun to get my inner bitch out.

"I'm sorry – how did you hear?" the brunette demands. I make sure that my face remains an evil mask.

"Um, Blaine told me on the phone this morning. I just called for tips on how to get red wine out of my blazer piping, and he would not stop going _on _about it."

I'm sure that Blaine mentioned MJ this morning. And I'm still on that incredible streak of luck.

"I may have mentioned it." Blaine says guiltily.

"How often do you two talk?" huffs the boy with the coiffed hair.

The way he's sitting next to Blaine. His face. It's pretty. Too pretty. Actually, it's beautiful, but that kind of thinking isn't very helpful.

Yes, this boy must be Blaine's boyfriend. I like his snark, but I'm positive that Sebastian doesn't.

"Oh. I didn't recognize you, khmpt. You are wearing _boy_ clothes!" I don't know his name, but I hope it sounds close.

He rolls his eyes and I knew my comment wasn't too out of character.

A Latina girl stands up waving a coffee cup, and my heart skips a beat. My mouth drops open and my eyes bulge. I must look insane.

"Johanna!" I shriek, and people around the shop give me nervous glances. "Johanna, it's _you_!"

She mutters a confused expletive under her breath.

"Johanna, what are you doing here? What am _I_ doing here?" I lunge forward and grab her shoulders. She pushes me away, her scalding cup of coffee spilling down my chest.

"Sebastian, are you okay?" Blaine asks, concern flitting across his face.

"IT'S FINNICK!" I burst out, finally losing it. Really, there's only so much I can take. "MY NAME IS FINNICK!"

"Excuse me?" Wheelchair Boy cocks his head.

"I JUST – I'M FINNICK, OKAY, AND I HAVE TO GET BACK TO PANEM!"

"This is the weirdest psych-out attempt I've ever seen." mutters the brunette girl. "Nice try, Warbler, but we are not fooled by your unimpressive and bizarre technique to sabotage regionals."

"I AM NOT KIDDING!" I yell, feeling everyone's eyes on me.

"That kid thinks he's Finnick Odair." I hear someone a few feet away mutter.

"YES!" I whip around to face a teenage girl. "How do you know me? Do you have any idea how to get back – "

She looks horrified.

"I'm Finnick. Me!" I jab myself in the chest.

"Uuuh..." With that helpful reply, she scurries into the bathroom. I'm about to chase her down and demand an explanation when someone grabs my arm. It's the coif-haired boy.

"This isn't funny." he says in a low, firm voice. "Just stop, alright?"

"I – I just – I _am – _" The stress is finally starting to get to me, and my eyes begin to sting.

I think the boy notices, because he asks, "Why don't we talk outside?"

**A/N: I wasn't going to post this today, but I just found out that Grant Gustin confirmed that he auditioned for Finnick. I can't even.**

**Also thank you so much for the reviews...they are the things that keep my fingers typing through the night.  
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**See you next time!  
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	7. Chapter 7

I let him lead me away from the gaping crowd. When we're alone, behind the building, he studies me for a moment.

"You're really not screwing with us." he says finally. "You're not Sebastian?"

"I'm _not_." I say emphatically. "_Please_, you have to believe me, I have no idea what's going on here."

He scrutinizes me some more, arms crossed. "I read the Hunger Games trilogy." he says. "Finnick died."

"The Hunger Games trilogy? What's that? Is this Panem, what – "

A smile blooms on his lips. It does wonders for his looks. On the whole, he's very attractive, almost feminine. In a good way.

….I shouldn't even be _having _these thoughts right now.

"Why do I feel like I'm walking into a trap?" the boy sighs. "What do you want?"

"Hey, you're the one who made me talk to you behind a building. Well, first I want to see these Hunger Games books you were talking about – "

"No way. Those are at my house, and you can't go there. Blaine doesn't read anything that doesn't have Harry Potter or punching bags on the cover, so you're out of luck there. Go download them illegally or something."

I mentally curse Sebastian for crossing this boy.

"Please? I'm not going to do anything stupid." I promise, and feel his searing gaze on me again.

"This isn't funny, Sebastian."

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm _not_ Sebastian. I _swear_. On whatever."

"Your word doesn't mean anything to me, _Smythe_." he hisses.

"Then what do I have to do to convince you?" I demand, stepping forward. I'm taller than him, and definitely in his personal space. He doesn't back away.

It's almost hard to concentrate in such close proximity to his face.

"_Please_." I say. "If you don't believe me, fine. Can you humor me, then? If I can't convince you, why don't you pretend. Just – I need answers, and it seems like you have them."

"Fine." he glares at me. "Fine! Whatever!"

I almost collapse with relief. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

He rolls his eyes and says, "Wait right here."

Obediently, I stand motionless as he struts back to the entrance like he owns the place, then returns a minute later, looking vaguely annoyed. And very awkward.

"Well...come on, my car's over here." I follow him and awkwardly climb in to the vehicle.

"You're really not acting like Sebastian." the boy says, sticking a piece of metal into a slit.

"Anyway, hello, _Finnick_. My name's Kurt Hummel, also known as Gayface, Prude, Fairy Princess, whatever wonderful, original nickname you've come up with this week."

Yet again, I feel slightly ashamed that I'm in Sebastian's body. He must be an idiot to hate on someone as sightly as Kurt.

"Hello, Kurt. My name's Finnick Odair. And I think I like the name Kurt."

Kurt snorts. "You are a terrific actor, Sebastian. You should consider auditioning for Catching Fire. Although it would ruin a great story if you were in it."

* * *

><p>We pull in to a house. It's smaller than the one I woke up in this morning, and I'm surprised. Kurt dresses like he bathes in money.<p>

"Follow me." he says, and we walk through the door.

An extremely tall boy is lurking in the hallway. "Kurt, what are you doing? Don't you know that he's a Warbler?" he points at me. "Did you see that blazer, dude? It means trouble."

"Shut up, please, Finn. I'll explain later." Kurt says, then quickly adds, "Can we keep this between us?"

Finn sighs loudly. I'm surprised that the coat rack doesn't blow over. "Fine. But I don't like it, dude. Hey, have you seen that bag of hot dogs Burt grilled last night? I can't find them."

"You ate them all, Finn." Kurt leads me into his bedroom and runs to the bookshelf. "They're right here."

He shoves three books into my face. One black, one red, and one blue.

"And these are...?" I examine the back book. There's a mockingjay on the cover, and a shiver runs down my spine.

"The Hunger Games. Finnick is one of the characters."

"A _character_?"

He groans. "Here, look." Kurt flips open the red book and reads, "_Finnick Odair is something of a living legend in Panem. Since he won the Sixty-Fifth Hunger Games when he was only fourteen, he's still one of the youngest victors_."

"You had that page bookmarked?" I ask curiously, and Kurt's cheeks redden.

"I – "

"Just read." I tell him hastily.

He reads about how the Capitol citizens fawn over me, but says nothing about the things that president Snow forces me to do. Good.

"The books are from Katniss' point of view." he tells me. "She didn't like Finnick very much at first."

"No, she didn't." I smile a bit at the memory. "Kurt, I was in the arena last night. The Quarter Quell. My district partner Mags had just – just died. Now I'm here and I don't know what to do."

"That's just like what happened in the book." Kurt whispers. "Well, not the whole appearing in Ohio thing. But Mags...and the fog."

"You know about the fog!" I exclaim. "You really do!"

"Um. Yeah. It's in the book..."

"What happened next?" I resist the urge to snatch the book from his hands. That wouldn't go over very well.

"Um...the force field broke, and the rebels got Katniss out of the arena. Not Peeta, though, the Capitol took him."

"Oh, no." Our plan failed. Partially.

"They took Johanna and Enobaria. And they took Annie, too." Kurt adds.

Wait. What.

"Excuse me?" My voice is wavering out of control. "Annie? _My_ Annie?"

"I – F-Finnick – crap, sorry, I – "

I'm hyperventilating.

"It's okay, they got her out. Gale did. She was _fine_." he says hastily. "She lived and she was absolutely fine."

I close my eyes. Annie in the Capitol's hands.

"You said I died." I say shakily.

"Well – you married Annie. You were happy together." Kurt says, but I know he's stalling. "And Annie was pregnant, too."

"How did I die, Kurt?"

"You were part of a squad that was invading the Capitol to kill Snow. Muttations – um – got you."

I am speechless.

I will die in the war.

But Annie will be safe. And –

"Do we win the war?"

He nods. "You were a hero."

After a moment of heavy silence, the tall boy pokes his head into the room.

"Hey dude. Just wanted to make sure yer okay..."

"Get out, Finn!" Kurt snaps, and I rise to my feet, startled.

"Not you!" he hastens, and pokes his finger in the boy's direction. "Leave us alone!"

A bit frightened, the boy's head disappears.

"You're really Finnick?" Kurt asks, his eyes wide. "You're really not messing with me?"

"No." I say in a small voice. "I'm really...I'm really Finnick."

Silently, he hands me the stack of books, and I crack them open.

**A/N: hey, I just thought of a ship name. Finnick/Kurt is FinnicKurt...ahahaha I am not funny...**

**THANK FOR REVIEWS THE AUTHOR WOULD LIKE TO THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT or whatever those boxes say.  
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**Next time, Sebastian participates in a fight with Gloss, Cashmere, and the rest of the gang.  
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	8. Chapter 8

_"You idiot." the other girl huffs, and I open my eyes and gasp._

_"Santana?"_

_**Sebastian's POV**  
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"Santana!" I repeat joyously. I want to say more, but those monkeys bloodied me up quite well. Instead of demanding for details and insulting her Latina heritage, I just lie there and let Katniss press leaves into my wounds. The patches of green are soon soaked out the blood. I look away, slightly dizzy.

Santana is staring at me. It's quite an odd look. Almost pitying and very unlike her. She's also coated in something red, from head to toe. It's bizarre.

"Santana, _say_ something!" I wheeze.

"I'm not Santana..." she says sadly. "Finnick, I – don't worry. We'll fix you."

"Santana!" I yelp. "You're _Santana_, and I'm _Sebastian_! You know me! I – "

"Stop moving around!" Katniss says in a firm voice.

"_Just humor him_." I hear her tell Santana under my breath. I ignore her.

"Santana! How do we get back – OW! – to Ohio? How did you even get here? How did _I _– AUGH – get here?" I say as Katniss pushes a leaf on my leg. She's bleeding, and so is Santana, but they're indifferent to the bright red splotches on their bodies. Of course, Santana's covered with red, so maybe she has no injuries.

"F—Sebastian, I think you're confused." Santana says gently. "I'm not Santana. I don't even know who that is." Katniss shoots her a severe look.

"Not funny," I grit my teeth in pain. "Santana – "

"I AM NOT SANTANA. GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD." she says. "PLEASE. You're FINNICK. Just get it into your head. What we need to do is figure out an offensive plan. There are still a bunch of tributes left." She gives me a significant look.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" I ask, and she actually hisses at me.

I take the hint and shut up.

"I did the best I could, Sebastian." Katniss says, winching at my injuries and then turning to her own. "Just wait until they scab over. We have a special cream for it back at camp."

Santana's eyes are drooping. "If you aren't Santana 'Lima Heights' Lopez, then who are you?" I blurt out. I don't want her to fall asleep.

"Johanna Mason." she replies.

"Johanna's not Finnick's girlfriend, is she?" Oh, please don't let her be my – I mean, Finnick's – girlfriend.

She snorts. "No. You – or shall I say, Finnick – " she rolls her eyes – "has a lover back in District 4. That's where he lives." she adds when I scrunch up my face. "Annie Cresta."

"But I'm gay." I say. That is one of the few things I'm sure of these days. Although it doesn't matter, because I'm not Finnick and this girl is his, not mine.

"Gay?" Katniss looks up. "Sebastian, we don't have much to be happy about right now."

"No. _Gay_. Homosexual. Nothing?" They both look confused.

"Like, I would date Peeta." I use it as an example. I don't know why that was the first person I thought of. Well, better him than that old guy, Bee Wee. Gross. "The way that you might feel about him – love or whatever you mortals call it. I might feel that way about a guy, even though I'm one, too."

"I'm _married_ to him." Katniss says, and there's an edge to her voice I haven't heard before. "I'm having his baby."

Peeta's married?

Katniss is _pregnant_?

Not that I care.

I mean, he's good-looking and all. And obviously tough. If he isn't viciously murdered, maybe I'll get to spend more time with him. That would be nice.

Despite being stuck in an arena full of killers, it's almost relaxing on the beach. It's almost noon, I think. The waves are crashing to shore. I went to a beach once. I was about fourteen, and I got kicked out because I was throwing heavy things at people.

Their loss, really. I think they actually kicked me out because they were afraid that my bare chest might actually kill them. It sucks being hot.

Katniss inhales deeply, her eyes closed. I glance at Johanna, and her eyes are shut, too. Migth as well follow suit. The world goes black for about a minute.

"What do we have here?" A woman says sinisterly from behind us. Katniss and Johanna spring to their feet and I twist my neck to see who's talking. She doesn't sound friendly.

The woman is scarily statuesque. There are hard muscles on her arms and legs. But the most terrifying thing about her is the wicked set of knifes in her hands. There's about four or five people behind her, all holding deadly weapons.

Yikes.

"Enobaria." Johanna/Santana (I still think she's that Lima girl) snaps, wielding a small knife. Katniss whips her bow over her back and like _that _she's got an arrow aimed at Enobaria.

"Oh, dear. What's happened to you, Finnick?" she taunts, taking a step forward. I hear Katniss tightening her grip on the bow.

Enobaria springs at me with her curved blade. Her face is stretched into a wide smile; the woman's teeth are carved into little razor blades. I instinctively reach up to cover my face, and decide that rolling away might be more helpful. She still jumps on top of me though, and her knife is ready to slit my throat when she drops over. Santana's dagger has penetrated her back, and I hear a loud boom, like a cannon. Enobaria's knife drops from her hand, and I jerk away as it falls into the sand, barely missing my face.

"Sebastian!" Katniss yells. "Get up!"

I push Enobaria's body away, which is no easy feat, and grab her blade. Overwhelmed, I turn to see Katniss firing an arrow at a burly man, but he ducks his head. Instinctively, I throw my new knife at his legs. It catches him on the knee and he falls over. Katniss lets another arrow fly into his head, and another boom sounds.

Does one boom equal one death? It must. I remember that this is all _televised_.How cruel, how sadistic. I hope whatever channel this airs on has a mature rating, because I can barely stomach this.

Johanna has come out the victor to a slender, blond man, and runs back to Katniss, as if protecting her from an attack.

There are three more people. Two guys and a woman.

This is like a video game. I've played plenty of those. Admittedly, this one is more painful and way more violent, but I know what to do. Without taking my eyes off the attackers, I pick up a straight blade. The handle is coming off, and the silver weapon almost cuts into my hand.

One of the men rushes at me with an ax. How DARE he think he can take me over Katniss and Johanna? I'm just as tough as them! I'm filled with so much rage. Without hesitation, I swing my new knife at him, hard. He's so close. My eyes are closed, but I feel a sickening thud that means I've found my target. Killing is easy. I should remember this when I get back to Ohio. That Kurt guy could use a stab or two. Or a dozen.

I open my eyes to see my knife plunged into the man's _backpack_. He's leering at me.

I have stabbed the side of his backpack. Wow. Not an achievement.

"Nice aim, Pretty Boy," he says, drawing back his arm to hurl the ax into my chest.

"Finish him, Gloss!" the woman bellows. Before I can stop myself, I snort loudly.

"Gloss?" I laugh hysterically. Maybe this fight has gotten to my brain more than I thought. "Your – name – is – _Gloss – _"

He lowers his arm, and suddenly, the beach is silent.

"My mother named me Gloss. After her she met her first true love when she was seven, and looking in her mother's makeup drawer. She married my father, but not even he could compete with the love she felt for that pink lipstick." He looks a little dreamy, and his golden hair sparkles in the sun. Stupid, shallow boy.

He takes a deep breath. "That lipstick melted one day, when – " I will never know when his mother's lipstick melted, because I wrench the ax from his hand and swing it. This time, I hit my target, and he crumples on the ground.

Actual success.

Time seems to slow down. I just _killed_ somebody. This wasn't a computer-generated character, a pixel on a screen. There is man lying there in the sand, dead, or probably dying because of me.

I think I'm going to throw up, and I turn away from Gloss just as the sky booms, signaling his demise.

Katniss and Johanna are fighting the remaining two. They're fantastic. The fight is intense, and I turn away. Haven't I seen enough today?

_Boom._

_Boom._

I look back. Katniss and Johanna are searching the bodies for supplies.

"You okay, Sebastian?" Katniss asks me, walking over. I realize that I'm shaking.

"Fine." I reply unconvincingly.

"Dammit. I shouldn't have nodded off. It was stupid. Peeta and them might be worrying about us. What if Gloss and Cashmere already got them? Did any of them hurt you?" she glances down at my legs. Some of the gashes have started bleeding freely again, and my arms are losing blood as well.

"Not really." I stare at Katniss' abdomen. Blood is rapidly spreading on her uniform thing we're all wearing.

"Cashmere – one of the tributes got me. It's not too deep." she assures me. "Johanna's okay. One of the guys got her face."

On cue, Johanna walks up to us, and I see the gash in her cheek. My stomach churns.

"Gloss had a sheaf of arrows." she says, handing the tube to Katniss. "And if they'd killed anyone else, we would have heard a cannon, brainless."

Katniss breathes a sigh of relief.

"You're good with that thing." I tell her. "Those arrows. They saved me, I guess. With the ax." She smiles proudly.

Exhausted, the three of us begin to make our way to the forest. We plan to go around the thing to avoid those evil monkeys.

We're walking quite slowly, as all of us are dripping blood somewhere and we've (mostly they) fought off killer mammals, and plain old killers. And it's only late morning. I look up at the sky in time to see a bolt of lighting strike a tree in the distance, but don't see why I should alert the girls. It's too hard to speak, I'm so tired.

But our slow pace definitely changes when the shadow of a giant wave appears in the sand in front of us. Then we're running for our lives.

**A/N: Not 100% in love with this chapter, but I felt bad for not updating in over a week!**

**I MET CHRIS COLFER! Anyone who hasn't read his book needs to, it is incredible! Also, there was a rumour that Sam Claflin was casted as Finnick. No official word yet, though - phew! If Grant doesn't land the role, perhaps he would share his audition tape to be nice.  
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**60 reviews! You guys are the BEST! I'll try to post the next chapter sometime next week.  
><strong>


	9. Chapter 9

_Finnick's POV_

I close the blue book. _Mockingjay_, the cover reads.

It's late in the evening now. I've been sitting on Kurt's bed for hours, devouring these magical books. Now I've finished, and Kurt is staring at me. Neither of us have spoken for awhile.

There's a hollow feeling in my stomach now. My head is going to be ripped off. Annie is going to bear my children. Katniss is going to save Panem.

"I have to get back." I say hoarsely. "Kurt, I have to get back. I can fix _everything_. But right now – Beetee and Johanna _need_ me! And I can't imagine what the Gamemakers are thinking! Plutarch must be frantic. What about Annie? She must be out of her mind!"

"Calm down. You're not going to help anything by freaking out." Kurt says quietly. "How did you say you um, got here?" I think he really does believe me.

"I just woke up this morning." I say. "Nothing else to it. Kurt – what if I really _am _Sebastian? What if I just imagined that I was Finnick?"

"No way." Kurt says at once. "You can't be Sebastian. You're too _nice_." He cracks a smile.

"If I have no idea how I got here – " I say, stepping off the floor and pacing around the creamy white room. " – then how the hell am I going to get back?"

"I don't know." Kurt looks uncomfortable. "Don't laugh at me – in a bunch of fairy tales, people get read in and out of stories. I don't know. They're just fantasy books, but...if you're Finnick – maybe it will work?"

I stuff _Catching Fire _into his hands. That's the book with the Quarter Quell. That was where my life had left off. "Read it, then. Please."

He flips through the pages, tearing one down the middle with his haste. "I think this is where you were." he takes a deep breath and begins to read.

"_It's midmorning when I open my eyes again. Peeta's still out beside me. Above us, a mat of grass suspended on branches shields our faces from the sunlight._" He looks up, as if he expects me to disappear, or fade away. Nothing happens. He reads the rest of the chapter, but it's pointless. I'm still here.

Kurt throws the book down on the floor, frustration marring his pretty features. "Finnick, if you're here, what if _Sebastian_ is in the arena right now? What if he dies?"

I hadn't thought of that. Would I return, only to become a spirit, or a ghost? Sebastian has no experience with killing, that I can tell. Or surviving. He has a comfortable lifestyle, from what I can see.

We sit there, silent.

"I have to ask you something." I say, breaking the tension a bit. "Will you please not tell anybody? About me? I don't – I can't let anybody know about me."

"Why? Maybe they'll have ideas." Kurt looks put out.

"What if the Gamemakers are somehow watching us? I can't break character. And what if nobody else believes me? Please – for now."

"But how will I explain why I'm spending time with you?" Kurt demands. "We hate each other."

"So we _will _be spending more time together?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Well, I just thought – " says Kurt, flustered.

"We will. Because you don't seem stupid, Kurt. And I could use your help." I stop pacing and sit down next to him.

"Fine." he sighs. "I'll think of something."

"Thank you." I say.

He glances at the clock. "It's late. You need to get out of here."

"And go where? Sebastian's house? I don't know where it is, and neither do you."

"Who drove you to the Lima Bean?" Kurt pulls a phone out of his pocket.

"Um. A Warbler. I don't know his name. He seemed pretty sassy."

"Oh, Trent. I have his number, he can take you home, probably."

I wait patiently as he converses with a very confused Trent. He finally presses the end button and says, "He's coming right away. If he asks, you've had a change of heart, and I was helping you learn French."

Kurt is a pretty natural liar. It's kind of scary.

I wonder if he lied about believing me.

We wait outside of his house for Trent. As his car comes into sight, Kurt hands me the three Hunger Games books and walks inside. The Warbler drives me home. I pretend to be too exhausted to talk. It's not hard, I've had a long day.

He drops me off with a breezy "See you tomorrow, Bas! Feel better soon, bro!"

The front door to Sebastian's house is unlocked, and I slip inside.

Sebastian's mother is watching reality television in one of the huge rooms. She's sprawled out on a leather couch, and doesn't look up as she says, "Hey, Bas. Pizza's in the fridge if you want it."

Thanks so much for the warm welcome.

"Where's Dad?" Too late, I wonder if he has a father.

She scowls, but her gaze never leaves the screen as she says, "Out drinking with Todd and Mike, like every other day of the year. Now get out, I'm busy."

I feel a pang of sympathy for Sebastian. Maybe having terrible parents is worse thank having none at all.

I don't eat anything, just walk up the staircase and into Sebastian's bedroom. Maybe I'll wake up in the arena.

Or maybe I won't.

Something buzzes on the floor, nearly giving me a heart attack. It's a phone. Must be mine. I press a button and the screen lights up. It's a text from Blaine.

_? did you and kurt do this afternoon?_

The phone buzzes again, this time from an unnamed person.

_It's Kurt. I got your number from Blaine's phone. I figured you'd want to know everything you can about Sebastian, so I'll send you a voice message of me saying everything I know about him.  
><em>

The phone buzzes one final time. It's probably Kurt's voice message.

_Ugh. _I know I should listen to it, but I'm hoping against hope that I'll wake up in Panem. That was how I got here. This is the best plan I have, which is really sad. So I fall into the bed, and soon enough, I'm asleep.

Never have I wanted to be in the arena so badly.

**A/N: So not much happened, sorry :/ So much Catching Fire casting news is coming out! But no official word on Finnick yet. *sighs( there is still hope. Maybe.**

**Review?  
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	10. Chapter 10

_Sebastian's POV_

The three of us are sprinting as hard as we can across the hot sand, the wave looming over out heads, blocking the sun. It's terrifying. Almost worse than that fight I was just in. My body is completely numb, and my breath is coming in ragged gasps. Katniss' hand is practically ripping my arm out of its' socket. She's so fast.

It's coming down now, the wave. I'm going to _die_. So many regrets!

Something shoves Katniss and me so hard that we launch forward and fall down in the sand. Then the waves hits the shore.

The wave crashes down on the sand, then shoots up again. It would be really cool, except for the fact that _I am on top of the wave._

I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale the saltwater. I know that I'm being carried to my death. Also, I'm higher than the trees.

And down we go! The water retracts, and I fall through it in a swirl of pain.

Smack! Did I – did I live?

Yes. I am alive. My body made a huge dent in the sand. I shiver. If I had been just less step away than I had been when the wave hit, I might have been killed.

The turquoise water spews from my lips. I open my eyes and see Katniss sprawled in the sand a few yards away, gasping.

Where's Johanna?

I peer around. My vision is blurry, but even I can see that she's not on the soggy beach.

She must have pushed Katniss and me. Just enough that we survived.

But she didn't.

Did she sacrifice herself for us? She doesn't even know me. If I had been in her position, I wouldn't have saved Katniss and her. They were annoying.

"Katniss?" I choke out, rolling over. "Katniss, are you okay?"

She coughs out sand and ocean. "Spectacular." she said in a slightly raspy voice.

"I think Johanna died." I say, flopping back down.

She sat up, wincing. "What?"

"She saved us." I'm still trying to grasp it. Johanna's dead.

She nods, and I'm surprised at how calm she looks. Well, she's probably used to seeing people die. "We need to get to Peeta, Sebastian. What if another wave comes?"

I glance nervously at the water, but it's eerily calm.

"Come on." Katniss forces herself upright. "They're probably really worried."

"Uuuugh." I pull myself to my feet as well. "I'm so _tired_."

"I know." Katniss looks exhausted too. "The sooner we get back, the sooner we can rest..."

It's lucky that we don't run into anyone as we walk around the edge of the monkey-infested forest. They could just knock us over and kill us, and we wouldn't lift a finger against them.

But amazingly, we make it back to Peeta and the old people without any other issues.

Katniss breaks into a run as our camp comes into sight. I don't know where she summoned the energy. "Peeta!"

He looks up from something in the sand. "Katniss! Finnick!"

"It's Sebastian, you imbecile." I mutter, and follow Katniss to the others.

"Didn't you hear any cannons?" Katniss snaps as soon as she's in front of Peeta. "We got into a fight and then there was a wave, and –"

Beetee gestures to the sand, in which a circle has been drawn. "Sorry, Katniss. I convinced Peeta and Wiress to stay here. With you and Johanna, we figured you all had the odds in your favor."

"But Johanna's dead!" I yell. "She died, she's dead, and it's your fault!"

I feel like kicking Beetee's stupid, wrinkly face. And everyone else in this freaking country. Why is this my life?

"What happened?" Peeta asks. He's facing Katniss, but I say, "There was a huge wave and it took her, I guess."

"I'm sorry, Finnick."

"Sebastian." I correct him, scowling.

"Right. About that..."

"That is still on my mind." Beetee says thoughtfully. "Although I don't know in which direction to go; has Finnick gone insane or has he switched bodies with someone else?"

"Tick, tock." The old woman says dreamily.

"On the clock, deejay blow my speakers up," I say. What a stupid song. It's impressive that the old woman knows it, though.

Everyone stares at me. Are these people so backward that they don't even know who Ke$ha is? I'd rather be hanging with the New Directions. And _that's_ saying something.

Beetee decides to break the silence. "Right. Katniss, while you were off chasing Sebastian, Peeta and I have cracked the arena." He points to the circle with a stick. "It's a clock."

"A clock?" Katniss and and I say.

"You know how the bell goes off every hour?" Peeta chimes in. His eyes meet mine. "Every hour, something bad will happen somewhere. Like, the monkeys in one hour, the blood rain in another – "

"And the giant wave?" I ask. "That's so weird. How do you control nature?"

"The Gamemakers control everything in the arena." Beetee explains. "They have very advanced technology. Much of which I myself created, actually."

He's some sort of genius, then. So why can't he explain why I'm here?

"So what do I do now?" I demand. "How do I get home?"

Nobody answers me.

**A/N: I'm sorry. That was a short one. Hopefully the next one will be longer! Sebastian's world is about to get more action-y!**

**The Hunger Games DVD comes out tomorrow! (In the US, anyway) Yayyy!  
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**Also thanks to MusicalRose1210 for the Tik Tok idea!  
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**You continue to make me squeal and die with your reviews and favorites. Thank you!  
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	11. Chapter 11

_**Finnick's POV**_

I open my eyes. Please, let the unnaturally hot sun be shining on my face! Let there be sand coating my body! Let me be in the Games!

No.

I'm lying in a bed.

In a bedroom.

In Sebastian's body.

Well, shoot.

"Breakfast!" I hear Sebastian's mother call from downstairs.

No. I can't do this again. I just can't. I can't go through the school and act like Sebastian again. I just can't. How do I get out of it?

Do sick people have to go to school? I don't think they do, so I allow the color to drain from my face. I feel my stomach, which was already knotted, begin to churn. I can make myself look ill, and then I can stay at home and think of a way to get out of here.

Just like yesterday, I find Sebastian's mother in the kitchen. "I feel _awful_." I mumble.

She takes one look at me and sighs. "Go back to bed, Bas."

Success! I moan for her sake and run upstairs, pumping my fist.

What to do now? I have no idea how to get out of this world, and Kurt's probably at school, so he can't help me.

I might as well try to settle into my new (hopefully temporary) life. Sighing, I power on my phone and listen to Kurt list off facts about Sebastian for about five minutes. As his voice floats through the phone, I rifle through the papers in Sebastian's schoolbag. I think these were supposed to be done yesterday, but I don't understand most of this. Oh, well. What's the worst they can do to me if I don't do Sebastian's work?

Kurt's information is pretty limited. Apparently Sebastian lived in Paris, he likes to drink alcohol and participate in other promiscuous activities such as stealing boyfriends, playing lacrosse, and thinking that he's superior to everybody else. Okay. That's not too hard.

I'm not fond of alcohol; while it does sometimes help me cope with my 'unique' life, it makes my brain fuzzy, and I need to be on my guard at all times, for the sake of those around me. But I guess I can pretend to love it.

Stealing boyfriends? No comment. And being sexy isn't exactly hard for me. I mean, hello. I am the definition of hot.

And lacrosse. From what Kurt described, it sounds like some sort of sport, and I'm about as athletic as one can get, so no problems there.

For the first time I think, _maybe I can do this._

Until, of course, the phone buzzes. It's from Trent.

_hey bas I hope ur not sick b/c MJ FACEOFF TONITE w/ the new directions were singing the song BAD we need u to choreograph so text me back. oh and I have the 'surprise' u want to throw at kurt if u still want it xoxo trent_

What is this?

I'm so screwed.

_Sounds great, _I reply. _You will have to pick me up. _

What on earth is an 'MJ FACEOFF?' What are New Directions? I've never heard 'Bad.' And what surprise do I want to throw at Kurt?

There's not much I can do. Kurt had given me the Hunger Games books last night, so I flip through them. These books only disturb me.

What is my world doing in a _book_? Who wrote it? How do they know the future? Why am I here?

These are questions I cannot answer.

I close my eyes and imagine that I'm standing in the ocean in District 4, with fish furiously swimming over my feet. I see Annie sitting in the sand, watching me. I feel the wooden spear in my hand.

The image calms me somewhat.

Then I remember that if these books are accurate, I will never return to District 4.

But I can change everything. I know what will happen. I can prevent Peeta from being captured by the Capitol. I can point out every one of those pods that line enemy streets. I can keep Katniss' little sister from being blown up.

But what is Sebastian doing right now? How is he coping in the arena? He must be absolutely terrified. What if time is slower there, or faster? What if the war is already over?

_Sebastian, _I think. _What's going on over there?_

_**Sebastian's POV**_

From the moment I woke up on a freaking beach, I knew I was crazy.

Now, apparently, I have voices in my head, too.

It happened this afternoon when I was talking to Peeta. Katniss was gathering nuts or something, and Peeta was dabbing this disgusting gel-like substance on the monkey wounds, which scabbed over.

_Sebastian, what's going on over there?_

It was faint, but very clear, like someone had whispered in my ear. I jerked violently, and Peeta fell on top of me.

I pushed him away and ran away from the group, still in their sight, but far enough away that they couldn't hear me. So now I'm standing up to my ankles in seawater, listening as hard as I can. Nothing.

I'm going mad. I must be.

I have nothing to lose then. So I answer in my mind. _I am in a violent reality show and I want to go home. What's up with you?_

He answers me, and I nearly have a heart attack. I mean, he actually answers.

_SEBASTIAN! It's me, Finnick. I think we swapped, um, bodies._

No way. No way. This is not possible. This is not happening. This Finnick person is living my comfortable life while I sweat to death on this hellish island? How is that fair?

"Switch me back!" I say aloud, hoping that he'll hear me. I repeat it in my head, over and over.

No response. I wait and I wait.

Nothing.

**A/N: So...Sam Claflin. My only problem with him is that he's not Grant Gustin.  
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**Does this little story really have 78 reviews? *faints* I LOVE YOU ALL! In the next chapter, we get to have Finnick and the Michael Jackson faceoff! **


	12. Chapter 12

**Finnick's POV**

He exists. I'm not crazy. Sebastian is out there, probably just as confused and overwhelmed as I am. This is _incredible_.

Is Sebastian a fictional character in Panem? Are Sebastian and Trent and Kurt part of some old story back at home?

_Sebastian! Sebastian! _I mentally call him again, but he doesn't answer. Did I make it up in my head? I must have.

A knock on the door startles me, and Trent's face pops in. "Hey, Bas. We're running late, we need to choreograph."

"Right." I'm still wearing the school uniform, so I don't have to change. Trent and I drive to an unknown destination. Sebastian's mother is parked in front of the television again, so I doubt she'll notice my absence.

Trent drives us to a chilly, dark outdoor area. A bunch of other Warblers are standing in the shadows, watching. They all look at me, as if they expect me to do something.

"Okay...does anybody have good choreography?" I ask after an awkward silence.

"Warbler Sebastian, shouldn't we sing the number before choreographing?" some dude says timidly.

"Of course." I say. "Why don't you start singing?"

They start _baaa_ing and _buuuuhhh_ing and I stand there, watching. After a couple of minutes, they stop.

"Why are you not joining in, Warbler Sebastian?" Trent looks concerned. "Are you still feeling sick?

"I'm fine." I say hurriedly. "I think I'll just hold back. Don't want to wear out my voice."

"Er...okay." another Warbler says. "Now, there are lots of bugs on the floor of the garage, so I propose we do lots of stomping."

"Sounds great." I say, and we begin to choreograph our routine.

**Sebastian's POV**

So Finnick is real. And he is in my body. I hate him.

**Beetee's POV**

My mind is going to explode. Or at the very least, spontaneously combust. What should we do? Despite this very confusing setback, we must continue with out rebellion. Or, I must continue, as Johanna is dead and Finnick is...Sebastian.

I watched Sebastian, who was standing in the water. He was watching the late afternoon sun, ankle-deep in the ocean.

Finnick was a bright man. And Peeta trusts him, which is important. Katniss trusted him as well, as far as I could tell.

I can approach the situation in two ways. He could diagnose whoever was in Finnick's body as a crazy Finnick. Or I can accept that a strange, immature teenager had replaced him. Sebastian, he called himself.

I don't know which scenario he preferred. But I know in his heart that I have to see this plan through, alone. I might be able to pull it off.

Yes, I've had made up his mind. We would break out of the arena tomorrow.

**Sebastian's POV**

Nothing else happened for the rest of the day. Good, because I'm wiped out. All I want to do is sleep, so I curl up in the shadows of the jungle and let myself rest. I don't care if someone comes up and stabs me, I just need a break from all of the action.

When I open my eyes again, it's dark. Katniss and Peeta are sitting together on the beach. I think they're kissing, Ugh. Beetee and Wiress are drawing something in the sand. Johanna – oh, she's dead.

I pull myself out from under the giant leaf that had shaded me from the sun and walk over to Katniss and Peeta. It's still so hot out, like the sun is still up.

"Hey." I try to sound nice as I approach the two. Katniss detaches herself from Peeta, gives me a disgusted look, and goes off to get a drink from a woven basket.

Mm, that sounds good. I follow her and grab the basket before she can take it. I guzzle it down, then grab a bread roll.

"Sebastian!" Katniss glares at me. What? It's not like there's not enough rolls to get around. Where do they even come from, anyway? Does Peeta bake them? Ha, wouldn't that be funny if Peeta was a baker? Because of his name? Like Pita?

I don't think he'd appreciate that very much, and just stuff the roll into my mouth. "I didn't have dinner anyway." I say when I've swallowed. "And I'm sure there's more water somewhere."

"It's in the trees." she spits, and huffs off with some spiky object. She stabs the tree and holds the basket under the spike. A stream of water begins to drip from the tree. Good.

Now that she's gone, I sit next to Peeta. He's watching Katniss attack the tree.

"Hi Peeta." I say, and he looks over.

"Oh. Hi." he says uncertainly. "Did you sleep well?"

I nod and try to smile at him. Why is he so nervous? "Hey, this is a really stupid and random question, but, um, do you like baking?" Anything to break the ice.

Peeta's face lights up. It reminds me of the time Blaine and I went to the mall together.

It had been a pain to pry him away from Kurt, and it was so hard convincing him to lie to him. But eventually, Blaine and I got to be alone. We went into a shop that had just open. It contained nothing but bow ties. Blaine had been so happy. His smile was so wide, I thought his lips were going to crack.

Of course, after the shock wore off, he said in a breathless voice, "I've got to bring Kurt here," And then he ran away to text him. So.

But that's what Peeta looks like right now. I guess Katniss is the Kurt here.

"My parents own the bakery in District 12." he says enthusiastically. "Before I was in the Games, I frosted the cakes. After I won, I got to paint on real canvases. Painting's really my favorite thing to do, but baking is basically my childhood. I had a special recipe for pastries, they were actually colored purple. So after I got a canvas, I – "

And he starts rambling on and on. I watch him, nodding and smiling.

The ice had broken.

**A/N: School just started for me, which means that I won't have as much time to write. I might cut the updates back to once every two weeks :( Just a heads-up!**

**Thank you so much for all of your support and reviews!  
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	13. Chapter 13

_Finnick's POV_

"I think we are more than ready to defeat the New Directions!" exclaims Trent an hour later. I know all of the words to this song now, so, great. Now we wait in the dark corners for the other singing people.

"Hey, Sebastian. I have that slushy you requested," Trent whispers, handing me a paper bag. "Are you sure this is the best idea? I mean, his dad is a congressman. And yours is a lawyer or something, but still."

"It'll be fine, Trent," I assure him, even though I have no idea what he's talking about.

"Just make sure you don't aim at the face. I mean, you don't want to blind him, after all."

"Right." I say. We ran through the number one last time as a group, and mimed passing around the paper bag. At the end, I'm supposed to swing it, and whatever is in the cup will fly everywhere. Maybe it's confetti or something.

I hear footsteps, and the Warblers assemble. Two teenagers march up to us. I recognize them as Blaine and the Johanna lookalike.

"Well, we're here." I inform them, reminding myself that I am a badass, and that the Latina girl is not Johanna.

"We've got something to settle . Both of us want to use MJ, but only one can." Blaine says coolly, trying to appear taller than he actually was.

"we're having a Jackson-off," The girl – Santana, that's her name – says, her lips curling into a confident smirk. "Winner gets the king of pop for regionals."

I feel everyone in the parking lot stare at me, waiting for me to throw out a quip. So I do.

"What? Us against...the two of you? Do you really think you're that bad?" Cool. I used the title of the song. Now it looks like I know what I'm doing. "Is that what they teach you at that little public school of yours?"

I don't know if they actually go to a public school, but they aren't wearing uniforms, unless you count those hideous leather jackets. Wow, did I really just think that? Maybe I'm a little like Sebastian after all. I allow Finnick to be wiped away and focus on the task at hand.

Santana snaps her fingers, and more leather-clad teenagers form a group behind her. I see Kurt among them, and without hesitation, we begin our Jackson-off.

My feet move automatically, my back straight. The Warblers and I stomp on the ground, as rehearsed. It seems as if the New Directions have come up with their own little dance, and then everyone's glaring at each other and it feels really dangerous.

My mouth is moving, and I'm singing, and it feels good.

We're at the end of the song now, and the Warblers are passing around the bag. They hand it to me, and as everyone sings the last note, I pull a big cup out of the paper and launch my arm forward – but wait! This cup is so heavy! What if I hurt an innocent person?

I see, horrified, that Kurt, the boy who'd been so nice to me, was in the line of fire. Crap! What if I kill him?

At the last minute, Blaine launches himself in front of Kurt. And then he's on the ground, screaming. The red contents from the cup are splattered across the garage floor.

In my mind, I hear the cannon boom.

Did I kill him? I must have. He's thrashing on the ground, and Kurt is crawling over to him, and even in another dimension, I am hurting everyone around me.

"Let's _go_," I hiss at the group of shell-shocked Warblers behind me, and we scurry away from the scene of the crime.

Oops.

**A/N: Sorry, that was a short one. I love reviews! Please? :D**

**Again, thanks for all of the positive response. I'm about six chapters ahead right now and whew. This story is so fun to write.  
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	14. Chapter 14

**_Sebastian's POV_**

"That's a really good plan, Beetee." Katniss is saying. "I mean, nobody understands it but you, so it's bound to work."

Peeta murmurs his assent, and I jerk out of my sleep. Wow. Beetee's voice is what some would call monotonous. He sounds like my Italian teacher. That class is such a joke. I mean, Olive Garden is the closest we're ever getting to anything Italian.

"What do you think, Sebastian?" Peeta asks. Boy, what I'd do for a Smoked Mozzarella Fonduta and some of those delicious breadsticks.

"Um." I reply stupidly. "Yep."

"Do you have _any_ idea what we were saying?" Katniss snaps at me. "It's kind of important. I mean, this is a life-or-death situation, so..."

"I was saying." said Beetee calmly. "That by electrocuting the beach, we might kill our opponents. We will also eliminate the seafood as a food source, but it is worth the risk. I'm going to run this wire to..."

He talks for a long time. Whatever. I hate science.

"That sounds...really great." I say when he's done talking. Peeta laughs.

"It's okay, Sebastian. None of us get it either." He smiles at me, and I try to smile back. I haven't felt this good since the Warblers and I performed _Uptown Girl _and Blaine walked in.

"But we should at least try." Katniss says, watching me carefully. Peeta leans over and kisses her cheek. Ugh.

"Finnick is feeling..." Wiress says, trailing off.

"Overwhelmed, I'm sure." Beetee finished her sentence. "Do you want a nut, Sebastian?" he offers me a handful of them.

I accept them.

"So we'll string up the island with the wire today." Beetee says to the group at large. "And when the lightning hits, we shall see."

Everyone nods grimly. Hopefully, these Games will be over soon.

But if only one person will get out alive...someone will probably kill me. Katniss, probably.

Unless I kill her first. Hopefully, Beetee or someone else will get Peeta. How many other people are in here, anyway?

Once Beetee electrocutes the island, I'll get Katniss. I do feel guilty, because it's murder. But if I win, I might get to go home.

We get up and head for the trees. Beetee starts to do things with his wire. Make a big trail, I guess. I walk beside Peeta.

"So how did you win your Hunger Games?" I ask Peeta, and he looks at Katniss.

"We both won last year." She says carefully.

"Wait – you both won?" I'm confused. Does that mean that Peeta and I can both win?

"Well..." Peeta shares another look with Katniss. Who is the mother to his child, apparently. Which is terrible. "We could kill each other. We would never be able to do that. So we refused."

"We weren't trying to break the rules." says Katniss in a strange voice. "But – but we just..."

"I know, sweetheart." Peeta murmurs, and puts his arms around her.

"Um..." I distance myself from them and walk with Wiress instead. She's very quiet, which is nice.

We walk around the island for a long time, watching Beetee set up his wire. The sun sets and it rises again. I hear the roar of the wave, and ominous clicking sounds. I couldn't sleep even if I wanted to.

When at last it seems like he's done, the old man turns to Katniss.

"Katniss, I want you and Wiress to run this coil down through the jungle," he says, handing her the wire.

"I'm going too." says Peeta quickly. "As a guard."

Beetee says that Peeta is too slow, and that Katniss can protect herself. I can see that he doesn't like the idea of a separation, but finally decides to stay behind.

"Make sure you don't go out onto the beach after you're done." says Beetee firmly.

Katniss and Wiress head off together, moving quickly under the morning sun. If they don't come back before lightning hits the tree, they're dead. Oh no, what a shame. Then Peeta would be single.

* * *

><p>Beetee sends me and Peeta up to the big tree. We head off together, panting. It's just so hot.<p>

"So, Peeta." I say when we've reached the trunk. "You really like Katniss, don't you?"

He nods.

"And you have a really big heart."

He laughs. "I guess so, yeah."

"So maybe you can find enough room in your heart to love both of us?" I bat my eyelashes. I hope he thinks I'm kidding, even though I'm really not.

Peeta, irritatingly, brushes of my question. "So...Sebastian. What's your life like, at home?"

"Well..." It sounds kind of lame in comparison to Peeta's. "I go to school, I sing in my choir group. And I play lacrosse..." It's probably best to stick to the basics. Peeta just seems so wholesome.

Although Katniss is pregnant, I guess.

He opens his mouth to reply when a gruff voice shouts, "She's as good as dead! Come on, Enobaria!"

Peeta's face pales. "Katniss," he breathes. We take off together, sprinting into the jungle.

"Katniss! Wiress!" I yell as we run. I slip on a pool of blood, and my heart sinks. "Katniss!" I call again, and just kind of crash through the jungle. I don't want her to die. She has a comforting sort of authority to her, I guess. Peeta's not behind me any more, but I keep going.

_Boom._

The cannon. That cannon that signals somebody's death. Someone is dead.

**A/N: I was too tired to edit this, so I'm sorry if there's any mistakes.**

**They are filming Catching Fire as I type this and we are now entering Glee season 4. Hooray!  
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**I'm sure it's annoying that I keep marvelling over the amount of reviews I have, but 91 you guys. That is only 9 away from 100. 100! _100! _** **See you sometime next week! (or the week after that)**

_**Would you so kindly make my dreams come true and help me reach 100 reviews? :D  
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	15. Chapter 15

**Sebastian's POV**

"Peeta!" I howl, changing direction. I turn around and slam into Katniss.

Her arm has been cut badly. "Sebastian." she says in an uneven voice. "Where's...every...one?"

"I don't know!" I cry. Everything is happening to fast. She and I go through the forest together, looking for Peeta. We hear a low moan, and I look down.

There's Beetee. Katniss runs to him and presses moss into a gash in his elbow. She's yelling and shaking him. Nice.

I notice a knife in his hand. It's wrapped in wire. The wire is attached to the tree.

"What's this?" I show Katniss, and can practically hear the gears turning in her head. She drops Beetee's arm and her voice grows stronger.

"Sebastian, before you, um, appeared here, we ran into a forcefield. It's the thing that keeps us in the arena. Peeta hit it, but...but what if...Sebastian, I think that Beetee tried to drive the knife into the shield!"

I stare at her.

"Katniss!" Peeta's voice rings from somewhere far away.

"PEETA!" she screams. "PEETA, I'M HERE!"

"What are you doing?" I hiss, but she shakes her head. Footsteps run toward us. They're going to kill us. Nice, Katniss.

"Where's Wiress?" I ask, examining the knife and the wire again.

"I killed her." Katniss says unsteadily. "She tried to kill me. I didn't want to kill her. I think they decided to turn on me and Peeta, and you, I guess."

I see someone approaching us, but I can't tell who it is. It's not Peeta, that's for sure.

"Brutus." Katniss breathes. Blood is still gushing from her wrist, but she takes out her bow with a steady hand.

"Katniss...the knife." I say. "Break the forcefield, Katniss!"

She gasps. "Give me the wire."

I pass it to her, but she falls to the ground before she can aim.

"Katniss!" It's useless. She's not dead yet, but probably will be.

It's up to me, then. I take the bow from her hands and wind the coil around an arrow. I point it at the sky. This has a sense of finality to it. This ends now.

I don't know how to use a bow and arrow, but I've seen others shoot. I wrap my fingers around the string and let the arrow fly into the sky as lighting hits, shooting electricity through the wire.

The forcefield explodes, throwing me backwards. I land on Katniss, and feel the world fading.

Is this where it really ends? A shadow falls across the jungle floor, and –

**Finnick's POV**

Kurt won't answer his phone.

I killed Blaine, didn't I?

None of the Warblers are talking to me. After we ran from the scene of the crime, they just glared at me and went home. It's not fair. None of this is fair. I didn't know what I was supposed to do.

Am I going to prison now? Probably. And I've lost the only ally I'd had, Kurt.

Crap.

What am I supposed to do now? Trent silently drove me home. My mother – I mean, Sebastian's mother – didn't notice me, but the father was home. That's probably why the mother ignored me. She was staring at him, fixated. He was talking loudly about his law firm and clutching a bottle of vodka.

I slipped in unnoticed, to my relief. The man oozed intimidation, and I was not up for that tonight.

And that is the fantastic story of how I got to my bedroom. Hooray.

Kurt still won't answer. I feel so terrible.

As I wait for him to pick up the phone, my mind goes back to the arena. I wonder how Sebastian is doing.

And Annie. My stomach twists. Poor Annie, who is back in District 4, probably out of her mind with worry. She'll be so confused, and the cameras will be gleefully recording every second of her inevitable breakdown.

"Finnick?" comes a voice from the phone.

It's Kurt. My heart leaps. "Kurt! Oh, thank God. Is Blaine okay?"

His voice is unsteady. "I don't know. We're – me and my dad and Blaine's mother – aren't allowed in the room with him. I'm in the bathroom right now so my dad doesn't hear." he rambles.

"I didn't know it would hurt him!" I say immediately. "I'm so sorry, I thought it was confetti or something – "

"Finnick, you could be expelled. Or even arrested for assault. I'm going to have to work my butt off to get everyone to keep quiet about this."

"I know, I'm so sor–"

"Shut up." he says. "I know, okay? And I get that it wasn't you. It was Sebastian. Or whatever. Just – next time, don't go throwing things when you have no idea what kind of damage you'll do. Okay? Blaine might lose an _eye_. So..."

I swallow. "Right." I say, and he hangs up.

Well.

I could go to _jail_?

I didn't even mean to hurt him. I did not even know what was in the cup. My face is flushed, so I strip off my blazer and pants.

I grab a gray sweater from the floor and rip out the laces. The white string is thin, but it'll work. My hands and fingers begin to twist, and soon the string has a row of tight knots.

I rip apart all of his sweatshirts, and then sweaters. After the last sweater is laying in knotted strips on the floor, I tear into the polo shirts, and the jeans.

Somehow I fall asleep on the floor, surrounded by the colorful fabrics.

The mother of Sebastian (can I just call her Mom now? It doesn't look like I'm getting out of here anything soon, unfortunately) screams when she walks in. I get that I must look a little weird, just sprawled on the floor, wearing nothing but underwear, buried in tattered clothing. But still. She didn't have to scream at me.

When she's gotten over the initial shock, she sits down on the rumpled bed. "Sebastian." she says, and I can tell by her voice that we are going to have a deep conversation.

"I'm a little concerned." she says. "You've barely been eating. You were 'sick' yesterday. Headmaster Dremble's assistant informed me yesterday that your academic performance was not up to its usual standard."

I just stare at her, unsure of how to react. I have no idea how Sebastian acts around his mother.

"What I'm saying Sebby, is that I'm just worried for you. I don't care what you've been doing. Drugs or something, I'm sure. I'm not prying, Sebastian. I just want to know if you're okay."

_Maybe I'm a little bit stressed out right now because I'm not your son? Maybe I'm actually a victor of the 65th Hunger Games and I live in the country Panem? And I'm currently in your son's body? And I have no idea how to get home? And I just almost blinded someone last night? Sorry if I seem a little put out._

"I'm fine." I mumble instead, and she leaves.

I put the wool blazer back on. Ugh, what are these people going to do in the spring? Will I be here for that? I hope not.

It's the same routine, every day. I don't know how many times I go through Dalton Academy, learning as much as I can, trying desperately to keep up with the advanced classes and languages Sebastian supposedly flies through with ease. I have a new respect for this spoiled brat I am impersonating.

As time goes on, I feel myself slipping away. It's just so easy, this new life. I don't have to worry about being sold to anyone. I don't have to worry about being killed. I don't have to think about the war.

I feel guilty about not caring. But Sebastian has to deal with that right now. I even have to force myself to think of Annie. It's terrible.

It turns out that Blaine will have to undergo surgery, but he'll be okay. Kurt is still trying to convince his friends not to tell the police about me. When he's not at Blaine's house, Kurt is in my bedroom, helping me with my homework. I appreciate the effort, but I wish he'd go away. It feels like I'm cheating on Annie.

Which is just...I don't even know.

I hope that Sebastian is adjusting to his new life. Because for now, all I can do is sit in a gay bar and laugh at people. Which is okay, I guess.

As we conclude another Warbler practice, I sigh. I have to sing everything. Everyone else just stands behind me and harmonizes.

"Trent, get me a slushy. I'm parched." I order. Yes, the slushy, the thing I almost blinded Blaine with. They're actually pretty good.

"Right away, Warbler Sebastian." says Trent immediately. He turns to go, but stops dead in his tracks.

I see the shadow of a girl. My instincts kick in, and I'm on my guard. The girl I confused with Johanna struts into the bright room, dressed in a tight black dress and a confident smirk. She challenges me to a duel.

If I was Finnick, I would try to get out of it. I'd try to calm her down and convince her to go away.

But I feel like Sebastian. I've been listening to Michael Jackson music all week so that I'd be prepared for any song that might come up.

We exchange insults, and I'm surprised at how easily they float off my tongue.

Santana nods at the cellists, and we're off.

**A/N: Who else is so not ready for the Break-Up episode next week? *unhappily raises hand***

**98 reviews! We're gonna get 100! WE'RE GONNA GET 100!  
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**Until next time! Please review maybe?  
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	16. Chapter 16

_**Sebastian's POV**_

I wake up in a hospital bed.

Yep. I knew I was insane. And now I'm being committed to the psycho ward.

I thud my head against the metal headboard. At least I'm home.

I sit up a little.

"Took you long enough to wake up, Fin," says a soft voice. I crane my neck to see a beautiful girl. Her hair is long and flowing. There are dark circles under her eyes, but she is so gorgeous to me, the sunken eyes and pale skin just makes her even more perfect.

If all girls looked like she did to me, I would be straight for sure. I don't care that she's a girl. Something about her just screams _mine._

"Annie!" The name rises to my lips with ease. "Annie? Are you okay?"

"_Annie are you okay?" _My voice is frantic, intense and strong. I am loving this. Santana is keeping up with me, both vocally and physically as we move swiftly around the room, circling chairs and exchanging evil looks.

"_Annie are you okay/Would you tell us/if you're okay/there's a sound in the window..."_

I need something to give me an extra edge. Anything. Like – the idea is thrilling – another slushy in the face. As long as it doesn't have salt in it. But I'm so thirsty...

"_Left the bloodstains/on the carpet..."_

This is the most exhilarating thing I've ever done. And it's almost over. With a deafening screech of the cellos it's done.

"I was better!" Santana says immediately. Ha, yeah right.

"You weren't even close." I sneer, walking away. She thinks that she's better than _the _Sebastian Thomas Smythe – I mean, Finnick Odair. I am Finnick. I am Finnick. Forget that, I'm Sebastian. No. Yes. Maybe.

"I was better!" she insists, trailing after me. The Warblers reenter the room, and Trent is discreetly holding the slushy behind his back.

"Now tell me the truth, what exactly did you put in that slushy?" she demands.

I inhale deeply and say as carelessly as I can, "Rock salt!"

I feel awful about everything. Why won't she let it go?

"But it's okay." I say, and Trent slips me the freezing cup. Anything to make this girl shut up about Blaine.

"How it it okay?" she snaps, and says something about Blaine going in for surgery. Seriously, does she not think I know this?

"It's okay, because I didn't put anything in this one." I swing my arm forward and a cascade of red crystals splatter her mouth and chest.

I won.

"Are you okay Annie?" I reach out, and she leans forward. I stroke her face. I've never felt anything like this before, and I suddenly know that I will do anything to protect her.

"I'm okay, Fin." she says softly. "Did they fix you?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"In the arena." Annie's lips are turned down. "You said you weren't you. Sebfanio or something, you called yourself."

I can't hurt her. "It was just a strategy." I say reassuringly.

And then I realize that if I want Annie to keep loving me, I must pretend. I must be Finnick. For her.

"That doesn't make sense, Finnick," she says. "But you're okay."

"I'm here." I say gently, letting my fingers brush her cheek. She's so soft, and her porcelain face is wrinkled with concern.

"I'm here." I repeat. Maybe I should just let myself become Finnick.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Finnick's POV<em>**

"Finnick, what is wrong with you?" Kurt is standing in my bedroom, his arms crossed. "You slushied _Santana_? Santana _Lopez_? And you admitted to the _rock salt _thing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"First of all, I had no idea what was in that freaking cup." I snap. "Secondly, how do you know what I said to that piece of trailer trash?"

"Her name is Santana." he says in a snippy voice. "And she taped a recorder to her chest, so she's got you on record. If I know you'd turn into Sebastian, I never would have tried to help you."

That hurts.

"I'm not Sebastian." I say quietly.

"Could have fooled me." he retorts.

Then he tries to smile. "I'm sorry. I know this must be so hard...I just don't know what to do. I mean, if the Hunger Games are, in some dimension, real, then what does Suzanne Collins know about this? Am I in some book in your universe?"

"Who's Suzanne Collins?" I feel some of the tension leave my body.

"She's the author." Kurt stares at me as though I'm an idiot. "Maybe we should write to her."

"Yeah, that'll work." My lip curls. "_Hello Ms. Collins, this is Finnick Odair. I was wondering why I'm in your book and I switched bodies with someone. Can you give me directions to get back to Panem? P.S. Thanks for killing me. I really appreciate it._"

"Well, what ideas do you have?" He grabs his messenger bag from the doorway. "I'll come back later when you get off your slushy high. Because right now I can't tell the difference between my favorite book character and my least favorite person in Ohio."

He stomps out. I watch him go, and sigh. Writing to Suzanne Collins isn't a terrible idea, I guess. But apparently Katniss' story is popular here, so I'm sure she gets a lot of fanmail.

Wait. If I'm Finnick, and I look the same as I always do...would she _recognize_ me? Is it worth trying?

I guess it's better than nothing, right? So I open Sebastian's computer and soon enough, I've found Suzanne Collin's fan email address.

Now, a week ago, I would've been so clueless about this technology. How the times change. I craft my letter, and after an hour, this is what it says,

_Dear Ms. Suzanne Collins,_

_This may sound like a very stupid, desperate attempt to get some attention, but I swear that it is not. My name is Finnick Thomas Odair, and I am the man from your books._

_I kid you not. Several weeks ago, I was lying in the sand during the Quarter Quell. Mags, my District partner, had just died. I was closing my eyes, and the next thing I knew, I was in an alien world called Ohio, and in the body of Sebastian Smythe, a high school student._

_I am dead serious. Please help me get back to Panem. If you have any inside knowledge at all, I beg of you; help me. My country needs me. _

_Your most sincerely,_

_Finnick Thomas Odair_

I hit send and sit back, breathing heavily. As I wait for her reply, which will probably never come, I do my homework.

**A/N: Hello everyone! After about two weeks (I think) I am back! I died for a little while about the Break-Up...sigh. But now I seem to be fully functional again, henceforth the chapter!**

**THANK YOU FOR THE 100 PLUS REVIEWS. I ADORE ALL OF YOU. Shoutout to XxSexy DevilxX for being the 100th reviewer!  
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**And GustinColfer, and Melbi, and the Fancy Unicorn, who review a lot. And everyone else too! I am just bursting with love.  
><strong>


	17. Chapter 17

_**Kurt's POV**_

When I walk into my house, it's empty. Good. Dad's probably in the tire shop, Carole's out grocery shopping, and Finn, Rachel, and Sam are out doing whatever they do. Probably eating cheesecake without me.

I go upstairs after drinking a glass of milk. My stomach is in knots about this whole Finnick thing. I guess I'm still waiting for the moment when he starts laughing at me for falling for his joke.

When I open my door, a soft yelp escapes from my throat. "Mercedes!" I exclaim, and clutch my chest. Great. I just wrinkled my Calvin Klein polo. If I iron it anymore it'll probably burn. "What are you doing here?"

"Where were you just now?" she asks, ignoring my question. Her eyes are narrow.

"Um...out." I say. What's she doing here? We've hardly spoken since last year.

She shakes her head sadly. "I know we aren't that close anymore, Kurt," she says, echoing my thoughts. "But I didn't think you'd straight-up lie to me."

"What are you doing in my bedroom?" I cross my arms.

"What were you doing with Sebastian?" she blurts out.

Instantly, my face flushes. Which is stupid. I'm not doing anything wrong by helping out Finnick freaking Odair. I mean, Mercedes refers to Peeta as Peter. She refuses to read the Hunger Games, and says that if there's no tots involved, there's no Mercedes. Her and those damn tots...

"What? Where did you – I – yes, I was with him, but – "

"Do you have any idea how _evil_ that boy is?" she demands, but I am momentarily inarticulate. "He almost blinded my homeboy Blaine, and you know how rude he is to everyone else. Didn't he call you a gay-face or something?"

"It's true." I say finally. "About the gay-face thing. And he's changed so much. You don't even – "

"Changed so much, huh? He slushied Santana this afternoon!" Mercedes yells. "Trent told us that you were with Sebastian after that incident." She shakes her head sadly.

"Mercedes, you wouldn't believe me if I – " But she won't let me speak. To my horror, I feel my eyes start to prickle.

"I won't believe that you're cheating on your boyfriend, your friends, and your glee club? Well guess what? We all do, Traitor Hummel. We had an emergency meeting about 20 minutes ago and for now, you're suspended from glee club."

"Excuse me?" I shriek. "I'm not doing _anything_ with Sebastian, Mercedes!"

"Save it, Kurt." she says coldly. "Maybe you should go back to Dalton. No, scratch that. Maybe Blaine should go back to Dalton. You're the only reason he's here anyway, and he's mad at you now."

"I think that Blaine would have come directly to – "

"For your information, _Kurt_, Trent was the one that told Blaine about you and Sebastian. So Blaine told the rest of us, so yeah, I think he's well aware of the situation."

And with that, she hauls herself off of my bed, and saunters out of my house. I let her go, too frustrated to run after her.

Okay. Blaine's mad. But how can I convince him of truth when I hardly believe it?

I have a feeling that things in Lima are going to get messy.

**AN: Sorry for the late update. A three day school trip, then food poisoning (ugh) then recovering from food poisoning, then my birthday...busy week. I think that was the only chapter from Kurt's POV. If there were any mistakes, it's on me. Sorry it was short, but I didn't want to post a long chapter, just wanted to remind you all that I haven't given up this story! Thanks for the support!**


	18. Chapter 18

_**Sebastian's POV**_

"So let me get this straight." a man called Plutarch eyes me suspiciously. I try not to make fun of his stringy hair and bulbous nose. It's hard.

"You, Finnick Odair, pretended to be another person called Sebastian in the arena, and did not participate in the break-out of Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen, by extension confusing everyone and endangering the life of the previous?"

"Technically, I broke the forcefield. So I did help a lot." I reply hotly, feeling everyone's eyes on me. I glance around, and see Katniss sitting stiffly in the corner, her eyes flashing dangerously.

We're in a place called District 13. Katniss, Beetee, and yours truly were fished out of the arena. Peeta is in the hands of the people who organized the Hunger Games, also known as the the Capitol. So original.

As soon as I was well enough to function normally, I was ushered into the room I'm in now. Small, gray, steely. Like the woman sitting across from me right now.

"But _why_?" President Coin. She's a nightmare, with freakishly perfect hair. It's just this super-straight line across her throat, one pristine silver sheet. The woman terrifies me, to be honest. "What was the _point_ of all this, Finnick?"

"Um." I do the only thing that will keep me from digging myself into a deeper hole and run out of the room.

_That was stupid. It doesn't solve anything. You're stupid, you're stupid, you're stupid..._ My mind's voice changes into that of my fathers. I shake my head to clear it out. There's no need to think of him when he probably doesn't exist in this universe.

Huffing, I slow down to take in my surroundings.

District 13 is all underground. Everything is the same shade of steely gray, impersonal and cold. Like me. Narrow metal doors line the corridors. The doors lead to bedrooms, and more metal doors lead to kitchens, training areas, artillery, everything a rebel needs.

I am not a rebel.

I know that Coin will probably send one of her minions after me so I slip into a battered-looking cupboard and slam the door. It, like everything else in this place, is made of metal. Thank God I'm not a magnet.

After I passed out in the arena, some sort of hovercraft picked up me, Katniss, and Beetee. Peeta was taken by the Capitol. Johanna, Wiress, and the other tributes are all dead.

And everyone's acting like it's my fault?

I told Beetee and that Coin lady that I really was Finnick. I need to be Finnick. For this Annie chick. I can't hurt her, I just can't, the same way I can't pick up a mountain and dunk it in a basketball net. It's just not possible.

It's like she's a wall of metal, and I'm a magnet.

Wow, I'm back to talking about metal. Okay.

So now I'm hiding in the cupboard from Coin. There's a box of pencils beside me, and I rip off the erasers. It's my own private rebellion. Maybe I am one after all. A rebel, I mean.

They don't waste anything here. _Anything_. In my hospital room, the doctor went to get something, and I ripped a piece of paper off her notebook to draw with – don't judge me, it's so boring there – and then she comes back. And she immediately notices that her notebook has only fifteen pages, not sixteen. What's up with that? It's insane, that's what.

I miss Dalton.

My hands wander around the dark cupboard. More pencils, some paper, and...

My fingers drift across a small rectangular box. I pull it from the shelf and crack open the tiny door so I can see it.

The light bounces off the cover. It's a DVD case, so faded that I can only make out one word: _Glee_.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Finnick's POV<strong>_

"We need to talk, Sebastian."

Such ominous words from such a passive boy. "What, Trent?" I sigh, fiddling with a safety pin. We're in my bedroom. I'm sitting in my desk chair, and Trent is perched on the bed.

"You broke up my Klaine." he huffs. "Wes put a lot of work into the Klaine. And you _broke_ it!"

"Okay, maybe I did elbow your Roman Colosseum in art. And maybe it got crushed. Why the hell is it called Klaine – "

"Blaine won't even talk to Kurt any – you _WHAT_?" Trent yells, clutching one of the pillows. His fingernails leave deep crevices in the blue cotton.

"What's a Klaine?" I say hastily.

"Kurt and Blaine." Trent says, sticking out his bottom lip. "They broke up. And you broke the Colosseum. Today is a dark day, man."

"Aren't you the one who told Blaine that I had Kurt over? And incidentally, we weren't _doing_ anything."

Trent scoffs. "Yeah, right, Sebastian. Because that would just be so unlike you. You'd never, ever, _do_ _anything_ with _anyone_, especially not with the person who is currently dating Blaine Anderson."

"What's _that_ supposed to – "

The computer dings behind me. I whip around. It's a new email.

"Is that from Kurt?" Trent leaps off the bed and puts his head above my shoulder. "Is he your boyfriend now?"

"Get out!" I shove him away. "Get out of my house or you'll never sing any harmonies again!" My voice is authoritative, commanding. It's a tone I've grown to like over the past couple of weeks. It gets things done.

Trent scurries from the room like a mouse. I hear him plod down the stairs and out of the mansion. Good.

I glance back at the screen. Amazing, incredibly, I've got a message from Suzanne Collins. Now I'm sso grateful that Trent's gone.

_Dear 'Finnick,'_

_Very amusing letter! My assistant forwarded me your message, and I was very entertained._

_I always imagined Finnick's last name to be Thomas, too! What a coincidence. _

_I admire your creativity. Keep it up. That talent will take you far._

_Keep reading,_

_Suzanne Collins_

"Nooooo!" I bang my head against the desk. I feel like that letter was my last hope. Am I doomed to a life of blazers, booze, and boyfriends forever?

Which, I guess wouldn't be _so _horrible. I can hardly remember what hunger feels like.

Wait. I'm losing sight of the things that truly matter. Annie, the love of my life, District 4, my home. The rebellion.

Why can't I bring myself to care?

Looks like it's back to square one for Seb – I mean, Finnick Odair.

**A/N: Who knew that President Coin was a gleek? :D**

**Thanks (for the millionth time, I know) so much for all of the reviews, the subscribes, and the favorites. Y'all are the BEST!  
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**See you next week (or the week after that)  
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	19. Chapter 19

**Sebastian's POV**

"Beetee?" I hold up the ancient-looking set of DVD's. "What's _Glee_?"

"You aren't supposed to be down here, Sebastian."

"I'm Finnick!" I protest hotly, but Beetee just shakes his head. He pushes his glasses up on his pert little nose, and I want to punch him in the face.

"I'm afraid I don't believe you, Sebastian. The others might overlook you, but I was there, remember? You're not Finnick."

I go red in the face.

"Your secret's safe with me. For now." He smiles. "Now, what did you want?"

Abashed, I hold up the case. "What's _Glee_?"

"Why, it's a DVD case!" Beetee cries, and wheels himself over to me. In his wheelchair. Yep. Am I responsible for that, too?

Beetee looks as if he hasn't seen a DVD for years. He carefully snaps open the box and examines the discs.

"Ahem!" I say loudly. "What is _Glee? _I'm getting impatient here."

"It was a television show from many years ago." Beetee says excitedly. "It's a comedy. Well, sort of. People get into car crashes and try to commit suicide and get beat up. And the plots make no sense. Oh, and one woman had to leave her abusive husband."

TV that has nothing to do with killing innocent teenagers? Sounds fantastic. "Can I watch it." It's more of a demand than a question.

"We don't have DVD players, but if I can just get the files onto my computer..." He starts going off on his technology rant. I watch him put the disc into his computer, and transfer the episodes onto some weird toothpick-like, silvery thing. Is this a futuristic DVD?

"Here. See if that works." He points at a battered-looking screen on the wall. "Plug it into the side."

I do what he says, and soon the screen lights up. "Ah, season three!" Beetee exclaims. "I knew Coin had a set somewhere around here – she was quite the fan. Gleeks, they're called. I know – a rather odd term. You can stay here and watch, if you like. I need to have a word with Haymitch."

I nod as the Warner Bros logo fades away.

"Season 1 was the bomb, man. 3 was okay, I guess. Not so much in the last couple of episodes. And Season 4? Not even half as good as the worst episode in 3, my God. Well, that's what Coin says all the time, anyway. Have fun!"

He wheels off, and I press play, starting the first episode.

Nearly ten seconds in, I scream.

Kurt Hummel, Finn Hudson, and Rachel Berry are on my television.

* * *

><p><strong>Finnick's POV<strong>

"_Sebastian_, I think we should talk, don't you?"

One minute I'm sitting in a leather armchair, sipping a mocha, and the next I'm being invaded by a boy wearing suspenders and a fedora.

"Hello to you too, my dear princess. To what do I owe this honor?" I say sarcastically.

"That's exactly my point. You're forgetting who you are, Finnick." says Kurt in a low voice. "You're Finnick Odair. You're ready to sacrifice yourself for the good of Panem. Risk everything for Annie, the love of your life. Don't you remember _any_ of that?"

I'm completely out of my element here. My life, my world, might be lost forever. I am a fictional character or totally insane. And I am suddenly furious.

"Does it matter?" I scream. "There's no way fix it. I might as well just forget everything, because I'm never going back. I'm out of ideas. Out!"

Kurt looks taken aback. "It'll work out." he says. He's trying to be reassuring, but I see the uncertainty in his eyes. "We're going to put our heads together and come up with a solution. You'll see."

"More like a suck-lution." I mutter, and he rolls his eyes.

"Whatever you say, _Sebastian_. You know, I think the role of the stuck-up, obnoxious prep-school boy fits you well." He smiles to show that he's joking.

I open my mouth, but the opening notes of a Lady Gaga song cut me off. "Hey, Dad. Is everything okay?"

I take a sip of coffee and blanch. It's cold. As I turn back to Kurt, I notice that his face is white. Whiter than usual. And that's saying something, because his skin is seriously the color of porcelain.

"C-can I call you back, Dad?" he chokes out, and hangs up quickly.

"What happened?" I ask, leaning in.

Tears form in Kurt's glasz eyes.

"Blaine's dead." he whispers.

**A/N: I probably didn't have to kill Blaine, but... I like surprise deaths, sorry.  
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**Hopefully, Finnick and Sebastian will get to go home soon! We'll have to see. Unfortunately I haven't been writing as much as I should, but I'm focusing on preparing for exams right now. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere!  
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**As always, thanks x infinity for your love and support (aka reviews)  
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	20. Chapter 20

**Sebastian's POV**

This is just...mind blowing. Terrifying. Confusing. This show has blown my mind. Not because it makes no sense. Not because they randomly break into irrelevant songs. Oh, no.

Because I'm in _Glee_, too.

I pause the screen and rewind it for what has to be the hundredth time. I can't get over the fact that I'm on there, singing. Talking. There were never any cameras filming our _Uptown Girls _performance. I was completely alone with Blaine when we drank coffee in Dalton.

What does this mean? Why was I being secretly filmed? How quickly can my dad file a lawsuit?

I'm Sebastian Smythe. I'm a person, not a character in a television show! And a mediocre show at best. Beetee wasn't kidding when he said that it was just okay.

As I stare at the screen, I hear the familiar clicking of Beetee's wheelchair as he rolls in.

"Enjoying yourself? I – oh." He glanced at the TV and gives me a a penetrating stare. "He looks quite a bit like you, doesn't he?"

"He _is_ me." I say, my voice shaking. "What's happening to me? I'm not...I don't..."

"I know." Beetee says in an eerily quiet voice. The friendly look in his eyes has been replaced by an unreadable mask.

"What do you mean?"

"I know, Sebastian." He pulls a yellow beanie out of his pocket. "Because I am Ryan Murphy."

* * *

><p><strong>Finnick's POV<strong>

"How can Blaine be _dead_?" I stare at Kurt. "What happened to him? How – "

"I have to go." Kurt whispers, and sprints away. I watch him slam his car door shut and drive away.

I feel the coffee grow steadily colder in my hands. Images I haven't conjured in months come back to me. The bitter taste of death fills my mouth.

"_Whatever it takes, Annie. I'll come back to you."_

"_You killed them all..."_

"_You'll do as I say, Finnick Odair. Comply and you'll not be punished."_

It brings me back to myself. Finnick. I'm not Sebastian, not really. I'm a better person than him, I realize that now.

Okay, Universe. Are you satisfied now? Have I learned my 'lesson'?

Nothing happens, of course.

* * *

><p>Blaine is dead. This has to mean something. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and that Blaine's death is significant to me in some way. I don't know why, but I can't shake the feeling.<p>

A pit in my stomach, I drive home, the coffee sitting on the leather chair. Forgotten.

I don't even remember what life in Panem is like anymore. I've tried to be less of an asshole, and as the days go on, we lose Regionals. My heart wasn't in it.

Blaine's death is the talk of the town. The details are pretty horrid, to be honest. It chills me to the bone. They found him on the street. Well, part of him. As in, he didn't have a head. Some sort of animal attack.

The only good thing that came out of that was nobody seemed to remember why he had been in the hospital in the first place.

**A/N: Hopefully you know that Ryan Murphy is the creator of Glee. Also, sorry about Blaine! And the long gap between updates. The next one will be faster, I think.**

**As always, thanks for all of your love and support! Reviews are appreciated!  
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	21. Chapter 21

_**Sebastian's POV**_

"Who's _Ryan Murphy_?" I demand. "And that beanie looks ridiculous, by the way."

"I don't know how to break this to you, Sebastian." Beetee or Ryan Murphy or whoever he is says. His eyes are pitying."You're a fictional character."

"No I'm not. I have a life. I'm just like everyone else in the world. You're crazy. You've lost your mind."

Seriously. How do you react to being told that you're a FICTIONAL CHARACTER?

Does that mean I'm famous?

"Oh, really? Then why are you in that show?" he gestures to the screen, where I am standing in the background, my mouth frozen in a sneer. "Odd things happen when actors try to balance two worlds, Sebastian."

"Okay. I am now 100 percent sure you are actually on drugs. Get away from me!" I grab a metal rectangle and brandish it like a sword. The guy is making no sense. I don't remember doing any pot lately, but I must have, because this is one heck of a hallucination.

"Sebastian, you were – are – portrayed by the actor Grant Gustin on the television series _Glee_. When he scored the role of Finnick in the 2013 film _Catching Fire_, in your respective universes, you swapped lives."

"I don't understand!" I yell. "My world is everyone else's world. The real one. Who's this Grant Gustin guy, anyway?"

"Like I said – an actor." Ryan Murphy pulls off his glasses. I stare into his tired eyes and detect no insincerity. Crap. Does this mean he's telling the truth? "He's from Virginia."

"Why am I here?" I hate the desperate tone of my voice.

"You're here, Sebastian." Ryan Murphy says. "Because when Grant Gustin was cast as Finnick in the movie Catching Fire, your characters swapped lives. Grant has huge control over what you are, what you do. Do you ever feel a strange connection to a dog named Jett?"

Now that I think about it, a white dog has always been in the back of my mind. I nod, trying not to scream. It's been with me...ever since I ate dog meat in Paris. And then threw up when I realized what it was.

This is why I only have cats.

"Well, that's Grant's dog. He was in bed one night, before the filming, wondering how well Sebastian would hold up in Finnick's world, and bam! That world you live in is _gone_." Ryan gives me a smug look. "Understand, now?"

"I don't understand." I choke. "I'm not – _real_?"

"In _your_ world, you are. Grant Gustin has had Finnick on the brain when he plays Sebastian, and Sebastian is in his head while he plays Finnick. This changes everything in the worlds. In fact, I daresay you might find some parallels in this world to the one you know. Didn't you think that Johanna resembled Santana Lopez?"

I nod.

"Strange things are going to happen, Sebastian. You and Finnick may be the only ones who are able to stop it."

"Wait." I hold up a hand, silencing him. "So things from this world – Panem – will start to leak into mine?"

"They already have." Ryan says. "Me and Beetee. Suzanne Collins – who wrote the Hunger Games trilogy, by the way – in in Lima right now. Certain creatures are now prowling the United States, such as the rose-scented mutts, which will come later in this world.

All this talk of parallel universes is scaring the crap out of me.

"What can I do to stop it?" I whisper. Ryan just smiles.

"That, Sebastian...that is up to you."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Finnick's POV<strong>_

The ceremony is a closed-casket one, obviously. Nobody wants to see a body without a head.

Blaine's funeral is possibly one of the most tense, depressing things I've ever taken part in, and that's saying a lot.

I sit in the very back row, away from Kurt, my fellow Warblers, and everyone I have come to know over the past month or so. They'll wonder why I'm not crying. And there is no way I will cry. Over the past years, I've become more desensitized to death than I'd care to admit.

Kurt is in the front row. His eyes, like mine, are dry, his face completely blank. He stares straight ahead, past Blaine's mother, who is giving a tearful speech at the podium, past the shiny silver casket that holds his former boyfriend.

I sink back in my seat, the velvet cushions pulling me in as I think, for the hundredth time; What killed Blaine?

I still believe that this has to do with me. I mean, kids don't get their heads ripped off here, in central America. As far as I can tell, this town is boring. Blaine's death sure has gotten a ton of publicity. Reporters, policeman, and animal control swarm the state.

Animal control...

And then I realize why my senses have been tingling. I think back to when I read Mockingjay in Kurt's room, when I discovered my fate...

The exact wordings comes to the front of my mind. How could it not? How could it not haunt me? This is how I died.

_They are white, four-limbed...Naked, with long reptilian tails...clamp onto their necks and **rip off the helmeted heads...**_

The Capitol mutts. The Capitol mutts killed Blaine. I know this as surely as I know that my eyes are green.

They killed Blaine.

So I wasn't the only thing brought from Panem. Which begs the question; What will come next? It won't be good, that's for sure.

Movement from the front of the rooms brings my racing mind back to Earth. I see Kurt quietly exit the room, his hand pressed against his mouth. Blaine's mother falters, and then continues on with her speech.

Without hesitation, I hurry after Kurt. He has to know what happened to Blaine.

**A/N: Hello again. Poor Blaine :( He doesn't deserve what happened to him. But someone had to die. **

**I hope you are all having a happy new year, and thank you for reading! Also reviews brings faster updates and happy authors! ;)**


	22. Chapter 22

**Finnick's POV**

"Kurt!" The garish green carpet springs under my feet. I scan the lavish parlor. "Kurt, where are you?"

A quiet sniffle comes from my left, and I spot Kurt on a leather couch, his legs tucked under his chin, tears rolling down his cheeks.

It occurs to me that maybe this isn't the best time to tell him that his boyfriend's head was ripped off by a reptilian monster.

I sit down beside him and awkwardly put a hand on his back.

"He died angry at me." Kurt whispers. "He died thinking that I was _cheating on him_. He died horribly. He died violently. He – "

"Stop, Kurt." I say, trying to be gentle. "It won't help. He's gone. There's no use dwelling on that. And you know he still loved you. He always did. I hardly knew him and even I could see that."

Kurt wipes his eyes and stares at the floor. "I just want to know who did it." he tells the Orient rug.

"I know what did it." It just slips out of my mouth.

"How can you know?" Kurt asks flatly. "Nobody knows."

"The rose-scented mutts." I say quietly.

A noise like a strangled cat bursts from Kurt's throat. "It's not _funny_, if that's – if you're – "

"I'm not joking, Kurt."

Horror flits across Kurt's face, and he buries his head in his hands. I think he might have suspected it, too.

"I'm sorry." Because, even though it's irrational, I feel like it's my fault. Maybe if I had stayed in my own world, Blaine wouldn't have been violently murdered.

"I _hate_ Suzanne Collins." Kurt mutters. He looks up, wipes his eyes. "We're going to fix this, aren't we?"

I nod grimly. Even if I have to squish myself into the pages, I am getting out of this universe, and talking my demons with me.

Kurt's father – who is about as many as Kurt is feminine – approaches us. "You okay, kid?" he asks his son. Kurt nods and allows his father to put an arm around his shoulder.

"Come on. The Warblers are about to sing." he says, glancing at me. I follow the Hummels back into the room full of crying people and candles. If any other creatures decide to pay a visit to Ohio, we might be having a lot of funerals.

In the meantime...I might want to find myself a trident.

* * *

><p><strong>Sebastian's POV<strong>

My feet are tingling with nervousness. President Coin has decided to call a meeting. It's mandatory for everyone in District 13. I can't shake the feeling that I'm involved. Or maybe I'm always nervous because I'm a _fictional character!_

Beetee – excuse me, Ryan – says that I'm a fictional character. As in, a figment of someone's imagination. But this can't be true. I have my own thoughts and secrets. None of my life is scripted. Besides, if Ryan was serious about us characters "crossing worlds" then why isn't anyone here singing?

It's impossible.

"You ready, Finn?" Annie's honeyed voice says from behind me. I turn around and smile at her. She's the one thing I don't hate here. Besides Peeta, of course.

"I'm sure it's nothing much. The meeting. We'll be okay...right?" She stares off, and I follow her gaze. What's so intriguing about a wall, I don't know.

The more time I spend with Annie, the more I think she's a little...off. Sometimes, like now, she blanks out, and once I saw her cover her ears with her hands and shake.

"Annie," My voice is husky and gentle, not at all like the sneering tone I've used for years. She comes back from wherever her mind has been and smiles.

I wrap my hand around her waist and we go into the cafeteria together.

* * *

><p>"Attention! Attention, District 13!" Coin says it more for herself than for us. The people here never need to be shushed or reprimanded. "I have an important announcement!"<p>

I watch her, and as always, marvel at the perfectly even line her hair falls in. Seriously girl, that is not natural.

"As you all know, Peeta Mellark was taken by the Capitiol at the the end of the Quarter Quell."

A tense silence fills the room. Then Coin's face breaks into a smile.

"Well, he's back!"

_What?_

As the room buzzed with excitement and muttered about how oddly abrupt Coin's speech had been, Peeta walked into the room. Or, shall I say, wheeled in.

Yes, Peeta was in a wheelchair. He smiled hesitantly at the crowd as Katniss pushed him in. Anger flared up in me, and I let Annie's hand go. Why hadn't I been notified that Peeta had been recovered? I was his boyfriend! Well, in my mind.

"Peeta!" I push through the District 13's until I'm standing in front of him. "Peeta, how are you? We missed you so much!" I'm gushing. Yes, gushing.

"Don't," Peeta smiles uncomfortably. "Believe it or not, this is the happiest day of my life."

Suddenly upbeat music fills the room. When I say it fills the room, I mean that it's like invisible instruments start playing. The music is inside of me. The drumbeat my heart, the guitar my breath. Peeta laughs carelessly and starts wheeling around the room to Elton John's_ I'm Still Standing_. I am 99.99 percent sure that this is a hallucination.

"_You could never know what it's like  
>Your blood like winter freezes just like ice<br>And there's a cold lonely light that shines from you  
>You'll wind up like the wreck you hide behind that mask you use<em>."

Katniss opens her mouth, but I shove her away and open my mouth. I may be out of practice, but I can and will sing this duet with Peeta.

"_And did you think this fool could never win  
>Well look at me, I'm coming back again<br>I got a taste of love in a simple way  
>And if you need to know while I'm still standing you just fade away<em>."

Peeta smiles blissfully as Katniss scowls and rubs the rising lump on her forhead as Peeta and I sing the chorus.

"_I'm still standing after all this time  
>Picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind<em>

_I'm still standing_

_yeah yeah yeah  
>I'm still standing <em>

_yeah yeah yeah_!"

I push Peeta's chair around the room, and everyone giggles and claps to the beat. Even President Coin. Somehow a group of about ten people start to dance – in sync.

Now, maybe there's a dance club in District 13, but I don't think that these people can fit dance classes in between stocking up on nuclear weapons and preserving scraps of paper.

Then suddenly it clicks. _Glee. _On the show I watched about that miserable public school, they always broke into a impromptu song where everyone knew the words.

But what could I do about it? I tried to lose myself in the music and forget about it.

"_I'm still standing!_" The music, wherever it came from, ended.

The last peppy chord fades away, and the room bursts into applause. Everyone's so giddy that they don't notice something horrifying at the head of the room.

Coin's hair is curly. She's wearing a sweater vest. My stomach sinks as I realize that she resembled the pedophilic choir teacher from McKinley.

**A/N: It's been so long, but finally another chapter is here! Sorry for the wait.**

**Parts of Peeta's dialogue were stolen from the episode Big Brother of Glee.  
><strong>

**I'm Still Standing lyrics are written by Elton John.  
><strong>

**Reviews appreciated! :D  
><strong>


	23. Chapter 23

_**Finnick's POV**_

What's my next move?

It's pretty hard to find tridents in Westerville Ohio. They don't even have an artillery. I tried to buy a gun but the guy said that I needed a valid I.D.

The mood is still incredibly depressing. Kurt won't talk to anybody, and the police are constantly driving down the streets. Watching.

"I'd like to open today's meeting with a song dedicated to Blaine." says Trent the following Monday. "He was my friend, even though he never took my advise about using less gel."

A sad chuckle escapes his lips. "This is for Blaine." reiterates Trent, and he opens his mouth.

"_Deep in the meadow, under the willow_

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

_Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

_And when they open again, the sun will rise..._"

I smile. Trent has a beautiful voice. It's a shame he rarely showcases his talent.

As other Warblers join in with their classic ooh's and ah's, I wonder, where have I heard that song before?

"_This is the place where I love you..._" As the last note fades away, it hits me.

No wonder this song is familiar – Katniss sang it to the dying girl she'd allied with in the Hunger Games!

But how does Trent know it?

"That was beautiful, Trent." I break the mournful silence. "I'd love to know what made you chose that particular song."

"My father taught it to me." A lone tear slips down his cheek. "Before he was killed in a mining accident."

I snort. "Your father is the general manager of the Lima Bean."

Heads swivel to glare at me.

"What?" I ask defensively.

"That's incredibly rude, Sebastian. His father died! It's not funny." says Jeff.

"Be that way." I stand up. "I am incredibly worried, frustrated, confused, and plain scared. And I'm also fed up with you all and your dapper ways. Count me out!"

"Sebastian!" Trent's jaw drops. "Don't leave us, or we'll be forced to get that guy from Colorado Springs. He's not even remotely bi-curious!"

"Tragic." I sneer. "Listen. Blaine died a horrible death. And I need to know what happened to him, okay? I need to make this right."

As I slam the doors behind me, I wonder. How the hell am I going to accomplish that?

**A/N: Sorry, that was really short. More to come, I promise. I've just been really busy. Anyway. I hope everyone is doing well. See you soon! (like maybe next week)**


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